lynxmyssyng

Not all of us are blessed by tragedy

Most of us are just real enough to have
only known shallow pain

And we stroll through the world trying to stumble

Picking at cuts that are healed before we truly
bleed

If we are lucky our lives will sometimes be darkly illuminated
by gray lightning that snickers across the sky

Leaving pale shadows and tinny reverberations that echo for moments

And we are strengthened by the belief that this humbug thundercloud lends our existence a depth that can threaten to drown us

Before we remember that gray lightning only dully lights the footpath

Leaving our sky dark and the way to the sea hidden

We hope for hurt that we can justify obsessing over

But we are content to just scratch mosquito bites a limpid pink convinced that these small wounds make us stronger

And we happily limp through the world, comparing paper crutches and standing tall in defiance of the gray lightning that snickers across our pride