//------------------------------//
// How it feels to hurt. (Poem for Luna) 
// Story: found object 
// by alafoel 
//------------------------------//

Take one last look:
at the weight on your shoulder,
the weight of this boulder,
you choose to carry
up and down this mountain.

Luna, who are we helping here?
To sit in puddles and reminisce
of rotten vices and open wounds
of every bad thing we’ve
ever done.

Wouldn’t you be free,
with shoulders unburdened?
To stride further and stronger,
to rush on with
out a care.
Wouldn’t we get there faster?
Wherever it is we’re going.

Must you see yourself suffer
for what is written in stone?
for what is
plain to see if one
looks.
Do you have to look?

And as I poke and prod the
scars left ‘cross my legs
and as I
hoist my own boulders too,
as I sit in space
alone.

No one is hurt.

because their tears are done but
ours still flow?
because the biggest mistakes are
not to be retold.

because when your shoulders are clear,
when your legs move with ease
it becomes so much easier
to step over the ponies
that you love.

because we need to remember how it feels
to hurt
because no one should ever have to
know how it feels to hurt.