I wish you had taken me to marches when I was young.
I could have held your hand and raised my voice.
I could have learned that my voice is a bell that rings through the air, that it’s not only sweet jam but also bread.
I could have turned my swamp of emotions into a river whose path leads to the sea, where it becomes one with the water and is infused with salt.
You say I share nothing with their calamity.
Nothing but our humanity.
You say there’s nothing I can do.
I can share a small light.


© katiewrites