I’ve got my bloody fist
Lifted towards the sky

My face is wet from
That never seem to dry

My beating heart is
Within my bloodied fist

And writ upon it is every
And empty wish

And my voice has long since
From screaming at the sky

With desperation all I’ve left is my
Beating with the why

Why is there so much aching?
Why is there so much pain?
Why must we rise so high
Only to fall again?

Why do we feel abandoned
If we are truly held?
And why does my heart keep at it
Despite every emptying of the well.

Yes, my reserves are empty.
But, so is the vast and omnipresent sky.
Yes, my head is reeling
But so is every tumbled cloud.
And yes, my eyes are burning
But so is the sun so bright.
And it burns right through me and down
into the coolness of the night.

So, I sigh
And plunge my heart back
Into my chest.
I look down and see a beetle
Tugging at a spiders web,
Freed by chance and mercy
To live life once again.
His tiny breath contains a universe
Of all the possibility of
His tiny life.
I see this in his release
From the cycle of prey and feast.

And gratitude settles
On my shoulders,
He gets another chance
Despite the fear,
Despite the chase.
And we both got the chance to try
At this thing we call life.
We got the chance
To live
To love
We have that,
At least.

-Angel Marie Russell