What Could Hurt We Refuse To Say
we sleep because we are too
exhausted
not really because we are enslaved
by the king of
working ants
but we are
we have become the masters
of too much worries
preoccupying ourselves with
this state of
unfeeling
this loneliness that has dawned in our
days
widely awake to an unacceptable reality
dressed in such a fashion of
denial
afraid that we shall be the first breakers of
the law of tradition
people shall mock us at the sacred
places
scared and scarred for soon
we shall be ostracized like
over-sized ostriches
our heads cannot be contained in closed cages
we want to fly
but we are too big for flight
we sleep because we are too exhausted with the sameness of our faces
years have made us twins
and we do not really like it
we need more moments of silence to make a wall
to ship us away from an ocean of familiarity that is killing
what we want to want in love
there is no fire where we sleep
we are cold sculptures heavy in our bed
dusts have accumulated on stuffed arms
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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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