Writing by Kirsten Twigg. Illustration by Emily Donelly.
Two words that sing a cruel lullaby to my youth.
In them I used to hear the future buzz
With promised trips to the movie theatre.
But now all I hear is threat,
A knife against my throat,
And a timer ticking down to zero.
When did excitement change to fear?
I’ve always thought foreboding was a funny word -
The ‘before’ is always the worst part.
The act of being,
Existing in static confusion,
While politicians in green ties and black suits
Snap our rose-tinted glasses into pieces.
I will close my window before I sleep,
Too scared to hear the world whisper.
Because in that sound,
All I hear is two words.