Funny how I believed that
I’ve already buried
the shock and the wreckage
in the months I’ve stopped
feeling like a black hole,
how time fooled me
in thinking that I have healed.
Today, I received a letter.
6 months later and
it still sent my pulse thrashing,
my matchstick fingers itching
to set my skin on fire.
I bet the ground missed
swallowing me whole.
So that’s how you spell it –
s u b p o e n a
So this is how it feels like
to drown in land.
I guess, it’s up then,
my time pretending I could return
to my safe place and make a
home out of broken porcelain
without winning the fight
without going to that place
that doesn’t tolerate what happened to me,
to my fellow survivors, and
making sure it won’t happen to anyone ever again.



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