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Echo
January 3, 2018
Layers of static block all sound
Everyone is too glued to their screens to hear
“Are you sorry for your sins?
Do you wish you never lived?”
With a blink of an eye the channel changes
Black and white and white and brown becomes
Green and blue and red and pink-
“Lock her up! Lock her up!”
I’ll be okay, I was never okay
Covered in glass shards, from breaking through one to many times
I see every single reality
I am God’s messenger or the chosen pariah
All the other reflections of me start to scream
I’ll grow more arms so I can hug myself to sleep
© Emily H., Marshall, MI
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