Society

Tell me your story, then maybe I will tell you mine.

Of the time when the world unraveled and we watched transfixed.
Of being imprisoned by paper thin walls on nights when society set itself alight.
Of hearing about families reduced to ashes under the moonlight.

Amidst this rising odor of unrest, distrust and death, I will theorize on how this world has become a stage to which we are all witnesses against our will. And ask you how long the night feels when you lie awake wishing things could come to a standstill.

When you are down, I will tell you that smiling wide draws attention away from the darkness under your eye. And that if you are brought to tears by the brilliance of the night sky, it is easier to forget horrors of the day gone by.

When confused, I will teach you to no more question why this universe is misaligned. Will whisper that even I have sometimes let the demon of ignorance lead me down his path, blind. Maybe I will also let you in on what my shattered self says in her prayers at night. Fooling myself into thinking that my whispers rise above the stinging smoke and reach the hand that rolls the dice.

But this knowledge I will only impart if I see you have passed the test.

Hear you tell your stories with labored breath.

You show me your scars.

I’ll show you mine.

And together we could celebrate that, so far, we survived.