I heard it was said
that resistance is a form of anger
what then is this anger for?
I cannot even see it
only feel the tingles
underneath my eyes
Burning, oh, how they burn
The yellow light from the distance
remind me of hope, some home far away
Except that home is not mine,
it is whoever’s—do I envy?
That instead a multi-layered roof is what I am under
I long for rest only so I can move again
I long to move again only so rest will mean something
something other than these palpitations
The weak beating of a once-freezing muscle
Each drop hoping for gravity’s mercy
Bring them to where land meets sea