“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.