- Vol. 08
- Chapter 06
Image by Cris Martín
Dear child
How pitiful your naïve grip of yearning
Pudgy threadbare veiny flesh, fighting
too quickly – we pick our bad habits, searching
Listen well, let me whisper empathy’s solace
survival tricks resonate best with loosened grips
gently, that’s it – ease away that desperation
Like, knowingly wailing at foreshadowing – realisation
acknowledging bequeathed consequence, as a mere steppingstone
to all those tears within sweet breath we’ve yet to taste
keep them loose and let them glisten – proudly
You’ll soon witness, we’re all just Icarus humility
Dogpaddling defiantly upon our sea of opportunity