Sometimes I forget how it feels to be human,
Rather than a stone.
How skin feels against skin,
Still on the bone,…
Gentle and soft.
Sometimes I am a stone. Cold and hard,
Solid and unyielding,…
Splintering on the surface.
Sculpted into a spearhead wielding,
The piercing end of hope.
K. Aldaya, 11/10/20
Picture: By Veit Hammer on Unsplash; https://unsplash.com/photos/YSnZqsF4DLQ
Be careful, she could break with a touch.
Her skin is like glass,
And she feels too much.
Tread lightly, in following her trail.
She’s gone far away,
And her mind, it is frail.
Come quickly, or it may be too late.
Time waits for no one,
And time is our fate.
Talk softly, and don’t scare her further.
She can’t see you move,
Your face is a blur.
Be gentle… She’s meager and brittle.
Her body is old,
But her mind, it is little.
Be careful, she could break with a touch.
Her skin is like glass
And she feels too much.
K. Aldaya, 5/22/19
My Soul is a Lock Without a Key 