Kilometers away,
I stare at the changes
I won’t survive;
the line of cars,
an occasional jeepney,
crisscrossing asphalt
layered in noise,
tight sidewalks tiptoe under
desert heat,
the life I’ve widowed, trailing behind.
I resist veering, unwilling to
scrap myself as firewood or food.
Yet again, I’ve been martyred in
refusing an endpoint
for an excess
of hope; the distance extending
to be at home
with leaving.
I anticipate no second thoughts now,
prolonging my walk,
yet I see the destination
as a poem not yet finished,
an old tricycle passing over
rough patches of grass,
seats empty, air astir,
half-silent, like another body
to dismember.
Ronnel Bermas (he/him) is a first-generation undergraduate at Ateneo de Manila University whose work has appeared in Aster Lit, The GUIDON, and HEIGHTS Ateneo. A Pushcart Prize nominee, he was also named a Theme Winner by Aster Lit and a finalist for the Lasallian Scholarum Awards.
Featured image by Alberto Frias on Unsplash.
