If I bury this hatchet, I am going
to do it right this time.
The first time I tried, it was my
first time and I had no idea what
I was doing. Part of me felt that
if I bury the hatchet, that means
you change. Not me. That the
nightmares and the pain, and
the plain sheer exhaustion goes
away.
But now I know that burying my
hatchet does not make this go
away. You will not change, and
my hatchet is the only weapon
that I can hold against you. It's the
only thing that makes you begin to
understand what is really happening,
and what has been done.
So this time, I am not burying my
hatchet. I dug it back up and I will
use it in my survival of cutting you
out and off, until nothing remains.
And then, and only then, will I lay
it to rest, living in a world far away
from yours and I will find my peace.
YOU ARE READING
SUMMIT
PoetryHello there, ambitious climber. Welcome to this prose-poetry chapbook called "SUMMIT". This prose-poetry chapbook explores decision making in high-stakes situations, immense loss and grief, and choosing to reach the summit in spite of all the obstac...
