Past Protection

Miranda Hanes, Staff Writer

The ends of my body were burning,

My hands,

My ears,

My feet.

The wood beneath me was what kept me from touching the ground.

I got up.

I was surrounded by malady left from the people I live amongst.

The light guided me to a patch which seemed to have been untouched,

innocence and clarity.

The patch was left in protection from the fire–

the same fire that burned me,

I laid.

The cool grass seemed to have soothed my burns,

the heartbeat in my head,

the race in my chest

was running circles around everything around me,

It slowed.

I breathed.

My eyes were shut for most seconds,

I left what I knew to be bad,

behind me–

To hopefully find better–


I did.

The past still checks up on me,

I still check up on it.