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