• Victoria Chwa


i can hear everything in here

though they never said we could

the deafening silence, the wilted tear –

unsaid and understood

the door is far away

fading out of reach

in a desert oasis

embrace and burn and leave

i can hear everything in here

but no one can hear me

they say the world ends in fire

but the fire will preserve me

it calls for me

this solitude, a tightening of the heart

coming and going, one step closer –

and again, i will see her

i make the box heavy

with the torment i leave behind

yet the air is still

crisp and clear

and awaits me with open arms

Vale – /ˈvɑːleɪ/ Latin, ‘be well!, be strong!’, imperative of valere
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