Grief

Time stands still
whispers are heard again and again
across my head. The image of them
no se pierde, no se desborran.
They tell me to let go. Let go of everything
inside. The walls I have put up
would crumble from emotions
bottling up in me ready
to burst.
If my mouth opens
I’d look the same,
but no one would recognize
my voice. It scratches on a chalk board
brings you to your knees.
You’re left there on the alter floor
in search of words, but I
don’t want your words.
I want their body.
I want them here.
Quiero vivir
where there is no time.

Saúl Hernández
Saúl Hernández resides in El Paso, TX where he is currently in his second year as a grad student pursing a MFA in Creative Writing. He’s also the current director for Barrio Writers at Borderlands. His passion is in making sure everyone has a voice and know how to use it.
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