My Voice as Fortress

“I have been feeling, seeing my own borders. I own my land. I used to set up a fence, encircled with a thicket of barbed wires, rusting in the acid rain. I had shards of glass, set on fire, on which to crawl in order to enter this space. I had wondered why my only guests were covered in blood. I had winged harpies with bows and arrows, I had rows upon rows of canons- all firing -whether it was a cricket or a single invader whom approached.

All I need today to guard my country is my voice. My voice sounds out the borders. And if you can’t hear me? You aren’t living within my space.” ~M.E.

I’m feeling good about the strength of my own voice.


2 thoughts on “My Voice as Fortress

  1. This is really a beautiful post. I read it when you first posted it, and the imagery stuck with me constantly.

    Wonderful efforts! You’re writing is clearly improving.

    • Thanks! I typically post prose rather than poetry. 🙂 Glad you enjoyed it. I couldn’t get the images out of my head, myself, without writing about them.

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