They say…  
it wasn’t messy  
until the cat.  

The cat just wanted to play,  
but somewhere along the way,  
she ran into a human like us.  

Together, they began  
to play with the red string.  

They say…
before the human,  
there was no method to the string—  
just thrown about,  
knotted inexplicably.  

But then man came  
and saved the day.  
The string and cat said, “Hooray!”  

They say…
man showed up  
with rules:  
“The string isn’t a toy,  
it’s a tool.  
Throwing it about  
would be cruel.  
People could trip,  
and one day,  
the string could rip.”  

They say…
they all agreed  
to move the string  
to a different corridor,  
behind a big door.  

“Any questions?”  
A little hand rose up.  
She was lost in the crowd,  
a girl I hadn’t noticed before.  

Her question sent ice to my core:  
“Then why is there red string  
all over the floor?”  

I snapped,
“There is no red string  
on the floor!”  
If they hear her question
Will it be safe for us anymore
The air grows heavier
Much too heavy to breathe
The sounds of heavy footsteps
Now growing louder than a horn
I’ve never heard knocks like this before
Why does it sound like a war
on the other side of the door?
All for a little girl?
Is that what all of this is for?

But then I looked down  
and barely began to see—  
the red string  
had tangled me.  
And by scolding the girl
Instead of letting it be
Have I sentenced her to a fate
just like me?

Too stunned,  
to speak,  
too stuck,  
to move—  

Her soft knowing eyes met mine
With the truth that mine were too calloused to realize
What They say…
might be too good  
to be true.


They say…
they lived happily ever after
They say…. “They will never all question us anyway.”
They say…

I exist.

But i need to do things
I don't really like,
And i dream
Of a different life.

So, am i truly alive?

Blink,
That brief darkness
Gifts you a moment
Interestingly
One of clarity
Where have you been
Did you really disappear
Or, was it
A moment to turn again
But return to...

Who?
Eyes pressed against me
Exposed from the darkness
What?
Things I thought were behind me
Brought to light from the darkness
When?
A period of my life
That I hid in the darkness
Where?
Was I trapped or lost
Travelling throughout the darkness
How?
The only way I can think
Is because of the darkness

It only makes sense
These extensions to fairly
Easy questions?
Or is it that I've always been here
You're the one blinking
Through the dark
Or am I just
Freaking out over
Something simply explained as
Blinking.

How do I beat writers block?
How do I scale a wall,
Google won't give me answers at all.

How do I fix a broken star?
How do I mend a shattered dream,
Is the answer hidden in the stream?

Tell me;

when does the suffering end, when does the weight lift up,
of waiting on unanswered prayers? Who else is out there to
place all the blame on, when your self-blamed self blames
you right back?  

who do you believe in less, firstly - God or yourself?
When facing all of the four walls, whose pinned up walls
stand much stronger? Who is fed firstly – an empty stomach,
or your poverty’s hunger?

For I am beginning to rest myself on canine sugars – a mutt
chasing after the sweetness of biting their own tail. Whereas
your daily bread seems to have gone a bit stale!

I’m not ready to die; but then again – I’m not so willing
to stay. And that makes for this to be… a scary prayer!

When asked about how to earn confidence and respect,
An old rail monopolist answered the following;

'When in interest and pursuit of respect,
A peaceful man must learn how to wield a sword.
Whether or not that may be figuratively or literally,
The quietest must teach themselves to yell the loudest.
Then once they are fit to chase away the thunder storms,
To slaughter the lightning and winds,
They have earned confidence and respect within.'

In my heart
Questions arise,
Questions I ask a thousand times
What am I good for
Do I try for nothing
All I ask is to understand why
Why am I so unlucky
Tears flow from my heart
One I cannot explain
Where am I supposed to go
I'm lost.

In this realm
I see only pain,
Pain even in happiness
Do I belong here
Am I worth anything
All these questions ***** me
They are all I ask.

Give me a reason to keep trying
My heart wishes to know,
Do I give up
Do I keep pushing
Every word I know disappeared
They vanished like smoke
To this day names cling to me
Worthless, useless, clumsy
Fears I hoped died a long time ago
They resurface
All I do now is doubt
I doubt I belong
© Adiela Michael

Gravedigger, gravedigger,
Why do you spend you evenings,
Dredging in the yard?

Gravedigger, gravedigger,
Does this break your heart,
That nobody else wanted to do the ***** work,
So they left you to shovel through the mud?

Questions are vital,
Life thrives on questioning—
Yourself, others, the world.
Without questions, you cannot grow,
You cannot think,
For questions ignite thought,
And thought fuels change.

Yet, there are those in power,
Strong in might but fragile in mind,
Afraid of questions.
They silence voices,
Suppress bright minds,
Youthful minds,
Minds that dare to ask,
"Why?" and "What if?"

Across the epochs of history,
There have always been
The brave who question
And the fearful who evade.

Do not be afraid.
Raise your questions boldly.
For it is through questioning
That you challenge rigid thinking,
That you confront the immovable,
Even the most powerful.

Raise your voice,
And let your questions
Shape a better tomorrow.