Two Victims

Poetry
 By Abigail Bechtel

You pass an invisible wall,

you begin to snicker and sneer

You judge me.

You make me your victim.

You cannot know where I’ve been

or what trials I have gone through

nor my joys.

And I do not know yours.

I cannot judge you back

though it would be so easy,

though I desperately want to.

You make me your victim,

but you were victims first,

although I cannot know to what.

This bonds us.

 

We are akin in this way,

victims to one another,

To prejudice, insecurity, pride

The list is infinite.

But we are victims, you and I.

This doesn’t make you easier to forgive,

nor me easier to like.

This does not cripple us,

Nor empower us.

Neither does this make us the same.

Those who say,

     “We’re all the same”

  are liars.

We are not all the same, you and I,

but we are also not all

              different.

Protected by Copyscape DMCA Copyright Protection

Ellipses’ Eclipse

Poetry

By Jordan Elsely-Kolhman

The sun shone on Monday morn
in strands of flaxen memory.

Out past the horizon sat a visage,
its magnificence sifted through the atmosphere,
but those minuscule collisions resulted
in splendor unrequited.

The gentle warmth of lips shifting
into smiles a million miles away
lifted midnight mists,
weekend haze cut into
static fragments
by moments of focus.

We play our celestial parts,
bodies revolving in and out of
eclipses, simply wishing for
the bliss of glimpses.

This life is but a struggle
through ellipses into

periods of certainty.

Protected by Copyscape DMCA Copyright Protection