Member-only story
labyrinthine
a poem
“the only way out of the labyrinth of suffering
is to forgive.” — john green, looking for alaska
i/
i have crawled
on hands and knees
in the long darkness
shards of glass
embedded in concrete
make for pretty light
(when the light comes)
but leave a number
of jagged wounds.
i am wounded.
ii/
it is a lonely
suffering. i am used
to lonely;
does nobody else
dwell in the complex
darkness? does
nobody else ache?
the bleeding
is not the worst
of my wounds.
iii/
somewhere, it is said,
light leaks into this
starless warren
a place where children
might look up
and hope.
i hope;
i crawl
through it.
i keep
crawling.
“somewhere in every mind is an opening
to crawl through — amy sarig king, i crawl through it