I'm Not Dead Yet

I looked in the mirror

and saw my enemies

staring back at me.

And I was inside of them.

They must've swallowed me up.

Had I let them?

Had I even put up a fight?

Something

tells me I hadn't.

Maybe it's a memory.

"Now is not the time for weakness. You must press onward as battle-tested warriors and defeat the enemy."

I stare

up into the

twig splattered

patch of sky—

here

it's all buildings

and trees

but that's not why

you can't see the stars—

and try to cry.

Or maybe just to cry out.

I open

a fresh document

and start typing.

Before I know it,

I've typed myself

off the page.

Funny

how I always think that

prayer answers

will come fast and sharp

like a gust of fresh wind

or maybe a whip.

Funny

how it's always

so soft and silent

I don't even notice it

until I've almost

forgotten.

My life

happens so gradually

I don't even notice it.

But today I notice.

And that was the day

I finally saw

the green

in my eyes,

and I remembered

who I was.

It was a silly notion,

thinking

the green

had crisped to brown

like leaves,

but forever.

Green doesn't just

disappear

completely.

But then,

with the end of the world

so near

it didn't seem

altogether

impossible.

But no.

It was really

there.

It hadn't been swallowed

up

by the rotting

brown decay

laying siege to it.

It was there,

clear as ever

if you only

looked.

If you only

used

the right kind of

Light.