Stranger’s Hand

In mass graves, we gather
Pinned beneath grievances
Matted together in the mud and the blood
Our blank eyes seek the stars of night
Seek the quiet anticipation
Of more horror to fall
Seek the increasing pressure
At the arrival of even more broken

Together, we cry and we hope
For the day a helpful hand
Leans forward from the stars
And eases the masses

Fingers entwined amongst strangers’ fingers
I lie still and close my eyes
I close my ears to the cries and the sobs
I close my nose to the stench of the dead
Here, in my final resting place,
I close my eyes and return to that which once was

To when the stars were a fascinating phenomenon
When  it was safe to walk out my door at night
And lay barefoot in the grassy yard
When my life didn’t cry out for a savior
To the emotionless lights in the sky

I know the others are thinking of it too
I can feel it in the strangers’ hand
Clinging tightly, twisting my fingers
Bodies upon bodies shake together
And suddenly, I am submerged
In the tears of the wounded and the forgotten
I feel my lungs painfully attempting to expand
And my brain begins to shoot off fireworks
I cave to the pressure and open my mouth
As the hopelessness begins to fill my lungs
I smile at the blessed relief
From staring at helpless stars
And praying for freedom

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