The Prophets

by Robert Jones Jr.

A separation from your suffering requires a separation from yourself.

Do not be afraid of the dark. For that is what you are.

What it look like if it were them, for once? If they had been split from their children; if they had to toil for no wages and meager sustenance; if they backs had been mangled for the slightest offense or none at all; if they fingers were stripped to the bone picking and picking and, damn it, picking; if it was they heads that had been placed haphazardly on spikes for a stretch of miles. How it feel if they were under? They might not know soon, but eventually, they would know. And they knew, too. That was why they cradled guns like offspring.

Samuel looked away. He understood it, but he couldn’t hold it. Elusive, like trying to catch a wish when a stone was easier to grasp.

Home is the beginning of every possibility and here you are trying to ruin it with your limitations.