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Fifteen Cents
The sand lined pockets brushed my fingers
Bruises scraping the inseams of well worn lies
15 cents is all I had
To carry me over that hill.
One last knee placed to salvation
As my palms left impressions of victory
Into the mud of a land called home.
Because I learned.
Tears were never enough
Screams faded daily
That's okay.
Brothers and sisters left years ago
Their faces still remain in the sunset
Initials carved on knives
Of loved ones who once ran beside me.
Each stab writes their breath into the air
At this point it's all we have left.
Carry on.
