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Tatiana Feb 2019
The ground is dimpled with different footprints
large and small
deep and shallow
human and animal
Some have more depth than others ever could
having walked miles and miles.

To be light on ones toes
is a characteristic
of those not old
of those not tired
or of those who are sneaking.
I'm not sure how to decipher these prints.

But we can learn much from the steps of others.

There is truth in how we walk
with strong, deep steps
or light strides
weighted with experience
or floating in the feeling of living.

The reason behind the steps we take in life
are sometimes never known
are sometimes never noticed
we keep our heads down
but we don't see that we're walking
on a path that has been walked before.

How come we walked like this?
Who walked and tripped?
Who stepped in the trap?
How did the earth disappear beneath them?

These footprints are ancient,
preserved to reach a modern time
but their reasons were left far behind.

Sometimes we are left with all the evidence.
Sometimes we have all the facts,
but none of the reasons.
Sometimes we vow to find those reasons.
Sometimes we are content to let it remain unknown.
Since the english language counts Y as a vowel, sometimes, I might as well include it in the series
Tatiana Jan 2019
The heathens of this season
bind me to metallic reasons.
The traction should be nonexistent
and yet i'm frozen in an instant.
I fear i'll remain here,
for longer than a year.
Frozen to the metal
of my winter struggle.
Tatiana Jan 2019
For the next two weeks he digs a grave.

He deftly wields a shovel
with hands that have forgotten
what it's like to hold the tools of life
He only knows what life is like
when he digs a hole for holy men
who have cheated others into strife
who have hurt their children, brothers, and sisters
who have made damaged wives
So for two weeks, he digs the hole deeper
than regulation states
for men who were mistakes.

The more time he spends digging
The more time the dead spend climbing

And they're always climbing
the ranks to be on top.
Falling again, bones breaking on impact
they just shake it off and start again.

He met one dead man who climbed to the top
with a light glowing where his eyes should be.
The dead man shuddered, bones rattling a song
of all the people he had wronged.
He was more bone than skin
More ghost than human
But he came back with sorrow on dried, discolored lips
and the grave digger wondered if
he could have redemption

For the next two weeks he digs a grave.
©Tatiana
Tatiana Jan 2019
Pain is a peculiar feeling
solely because of the ways it can be felt.
Piercing one moment.
Dull the next.
Stabbing this day.
Subsiding the other.
Emotional on a Monday.
Physical by Friday.
Absolutely mental on all days
that end in Y.
Tatiana Jan 2019
I see the best in people
I see the worst in them too
My two eyes, they can define
Those characteristics in you.

That's why I avoid mirrors.
I can't dissect myself anymore.
  Jan 2019 Tatiana
Mike Hauser
i'm a pretender
a thin man in disguise
return to sender
with address hard pressed to find

considered a keeper
secrets about myself
i'm a deciever
some things i can not help

a reverse revolator
there are things i'll never tell
a strong detonator
wiring myself up to fail
Tatiana Jan 2019
If you see men pass through
a desolate room,
and fade out of existence.
You've seen ghostly residue
of men lead to their doom.
You've seen a past violence.

If you see women pass through
large, empty halls,
and constantly look over their shoulders.
You've seen how societies' glue
is stalked within the walls.
You've seen a fear that's grown colder.

If you see people pass through
the pages of your books,
look closely at who's remembered.
Four men die and get their due,
four women can't escape threatening looks.
Only one group ends up dismembered.

If you see me pass through
a part of your life,
please don't have any doubt.
You've seen this world's terrible retinue
that haunts and causes strife.
Yet the sight of me makes you pass out.
© Tatiana
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