One Soul

When I was a kid,

My older sister told me if bleeding wounds of the two of you touch,

your bloods stick together, and now you’ve become one.

I’ll give you the blade when I’m done.

Hope that used to embody 

fervently all of me

you were the source–

When we were one.

When I was a kid, 

My mother told me if failure suppress all success,

you ought to push even stronger.

I’ll show you the window-out when I’m taller.

But if the problem’s too heavy to push uphill,

won’t it forever fall back downhill?

*

Now that we aren’t one,

I find myself looking up to seek hope

in the most inhumane of all.