462. The Sinner

Pulled apart. I come undone.

From the start I’m forced to run.

Run from one point to another.

I am me and then the other.

Words confound. I spin in place.

I make no sound. My words: they race,…

Inside myself where they collide,

And try to escape to the outside.

Drained and weak. I grip my heart.

I can’t speak. I’m torn apart.

My heart beats, and beats, and beats,

While inside, history repeats.

Pulled apart. I come undone.

Will this fight ever be won?

For as in war, there are no winners.

There are no saints, only sinners.

K. Aldaya, 12/28/18

Picture: https://rightsinfo.org/excluded-schoolchildren-at-serious-risk-of-knife-crime-and-youth-violence/