Failure

What do you know about failure? He asked with a monotone voice, ringing and dancing like the bones of the dead before Halloween day. What I knew about failure was absolute. It was not because of the honest truths and the harsh critiques people would pour onto me, it was because I knew what it felt like to bleed in a wound that had healed yesterday. Because I knew if I swam in the pool deep enough, I would drown – but I let go of the hedges as I felt the pounding of lungs screaming for air. As if mistakes and failure were nicknamed as fair, I found myself living in one. What I knew about failure was right in front of me. Deserts of cut-in-half trees; humanity. Shadows lingering with gold rings and teeth, promising to bring a better life for homeless thirteen year olds living in streets. We’re constantly being told that a house with a roof is perfectly safe, but for the unfortunate group they’re stuck in Lucifer’s cage. Step-fathers with punches and a mother without a voice, a daughter with eyes who ran with poise. God gave her this life for this was not a choice, but Hell-stricken path of destiny as she is forced to walk on the dirt road when the forests right next to her symbolized being free. What I knew about failure was giving God our trust then throwing it all away. To this day, we remained the same of yester-year. Planting fear and trauma into children who haven’t even begun school yet. Holding the lack of realization that sixteen year olds hearts are being bent because of a creature inside her belly. What I knew about failure was that I was living in one.