[heads-up: mild body horror]
remember the spring the earth cracked?
verdant sun betrayed the moment’s weight;
smoky skies and crumbling buildings deserved the role.
bedrock fractured like Pandora’s ribcage–
shattered foundations no cast could set,
furies that would never return;
chase or flee, there was no standing still.
god, it hurt—
bone-hollow cancerous ache the color of bruises and teeth.
and where once you had feet,
you teetered on narrow points,
every step threatening to pierce the rice-paper earth.
remember the vertigo?
and how, cruelest of cruelties,
they still expected you to stand on mist-shrouded stubs,
to walk concrete slabs
(cracked; how could they not see the chasms)
from school to storefront
(broken bricks and dust)
as if the piercing sun were pavement.
“but the earth
and I have lost my feet.”
Header photo by Michael Mees.