Poetry of Stephanie Bennett Henry, Uncategorized

The End of the Tunnel

I try to picture the end of the tunnel. If there’s light there or just a dim glow from what almost was. I close my eyes because the answer hurts too much to feel. I have always been good at looking away from things that can never be mine. Dodging the light as though it won’t see me to shine on me. Plugging my ears to drown out the answers that threaten my heart’s peace. But here I am anyway, standing in the road, waiting to see a glimpse of anything at all. Maybe I will lock eyes with hope, Grab hold of it and run while refusing to ever let go. Or maybe I will just let it move right past me like I was never here with this heart. Save it from the burden of having to read the stories in my eyes, so it doesn’t feel obligated to be some kind of stepping stone that offers me more than broken wings to take flight with. Put me in the dark. I shine the brightest when I’m unseen. When my name is unknown. Eyes closed to blind myself from the way I break with such ease. I am safe here with the parts of myself I broke off to lighten all that weighs me down. Shut the door on your way out. I rock myself to sleep within the silence of a lullaby written from wounds that never had hope taste the blood to stop the sorrow. I lost the words of all I wanted to say from covering my mouth with a suture to keep the demons from speaking for me. They keep breaking it open. Feeding me my own words to give me a taste of the bitter from my own medicine. I swallow the words down like a lesson that has the only remedy to fill the hollow spaces inside, it’s poison. I feel it swimming through my veins like a crawling under my skin that never stops. It doesn’t feel like hope, it feels unfinished like the light I keep chasing for purpose, but it’s dark. If there’s a lesson here, I’m not learning it. Maybe I’m not ready for another lesson that lends itself to the smashing of my dreams like a wrecking ball dropping from the sky to show me light, no. I prefer to stay in the night and ignore the stars I keep breaking with my own hands because sometimes they look like my heart and god only knows how I love to feel the nothing that comes after I rip my heart apart.

-Stephanie Bennett-Henry


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