We put on our boots
We are going to walk
In the field
With broken glass
We like the sound
It splinters like ice
On snow
Maybe we will
Drag our fingers
Over the glass
Let it tear our flesh
Just a little
To prove
We are alive
We have done this
For many years
When I was as young
As Alice
She giggles
Your flesh is as red
As the Red Queen
That is why we
Do not leave the room
We are tired of
People staring
Wondering
Not asking any more
Our boots sink deep
Into the grass
And shards
It is like a meditation
Walking
Is
Being
And amongst the shimmers
We are here
Walking to a rhythm
We can only hear
Marking time
Breaking glass
Indestructible in our leather boots.
I'm glad about the boots!
ReplyDeleteI sense the theme of 'self harm' in your poem .... relieved the closing line ends on a positive. Cheers, Jae.
ReplyDeleteI am glad for the boots, too. I dont like the thought of fingers on glass. Take good care, Jae.
ReplyDeleteIndestructibility of broken glass is a hopeful thought.
ReplyDeleteThe boots give this a positive feeling.
ReplyDelete