I bear the guilt of my fear.
For not making sense to you.
I had hoped
In the language of smoke signals and body armor.
Setting myself on fire would be a brightly raised banner,
Written on freshly opened skin,
Begging you to enter in with flashbang intervention
Like Ghosts on a rescue mission.
But when you saw the horizon and desired to go no further,
I knew I should have spelled out it for you.
Spoke in the language of your fathers;
You never would have shamed me
For the sins of my family.
I just found it easier to speak
In stargazing whispers on a cold breeze
Carrying the scent of forest fires and fire flies;
It was the only thing
Keeping me from jumping.