Life Tags

Who we are in life is often our own choice, and we are marked by those choices.

Who decided that we needed markers to cry?
A headstone--a body--blood.
Pain unending living next to us --that
reaches inside--and strips away the necessity of frivolous,
and yet--makes you yearn for a time when
you took it for granted.

Who decided that listening was an optional activity?
Set aside for the moments that screamed out
in such a way to grab your attention--made you cry--
changed your life--when someone left you--when someone hated you,
and maybe, if you are really lucky--when someone loved you.
These moments can never be set aside.

Who decided that hearts were too risky to be felt,
and hands were too easily found again, to be held?
Who knew that in the space of life
the markers mark us--and make us who we are?

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