Breath - The Deep Blue Sea

Every morning, we have learnt this new mantra before we start the day

Either good or bad, we end it on our very own, every human feels, every human suffers

Just because one of them decided to bite, does not make the other bad

Just because one of them bites, dose not make the other bad

And with that, cold feet to the flood, toes curled and hands tucked away into sleeves, hair on the eyes and back hunched we make busy body

Haste to sooth Haste to sooth

We must turn to butter to sooth the way

It is alright if the body becomes a bit tattered, we are like water

Throw me in a jar and we'll warp into what so ever you would like me too

There is pleasure

Pleasure in peace

Pleasure in calm

But there is also pleasure

Pleasure in conflict

Pleasure in poking knives into backs

Would it still be pleasure if you poked knives into children?

Recently

A realization has hit us

It says ' there is warmth, if we try to find it'

But then another 'there is only warmth, if we give up some of you.'

There is a law, you see.

A law of equivalence.

A law of exchange.

We are torn, neither are false yet neither are true

There is warmth towards the chest, it radiates on the face, eyes squint and lips pucker into thin lines

But the back.

Oh the back is cold

It's cold

It's raw

It's unsafe

There's to much focus

Focus on the back

Focus on our back

We can't focus on the warmth

We can't focus on your warmth

Can you see us?

For we cannot see you

Please understand

We have recently learnt that one of us is naive

She's a child

She's too good

She is afraid as she cannot understand

She cannot understand why the teeth are grinded and gritted

Why stones are thrown through glass houses

Why skin on the palm of her mother's hand have become tough and rigid

Rigid.

Yes, that is who I am

Rigid yet liquid

Like Oobleck

I am afraid.

Can you help me not be?

Can you feel that pang in your chest for the girl birthed to become a mother to a house that she was told to be a child in?

We can feel it

When you look at us

The love

The pity

Can you save a piece of us in you?

Can you collect us bit by bit so if we wish to find ourselves, we will find them in you?

You, the reader.

Can you hold onto it?

Can you help us not be....

Afraid?

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