Crux

Crux

It looks different from up here
the soldiers smaller,
their menacing scowls
too far away to see

   or maybe it's just the blood and sweat
   that fills my eyes, blurring my vision

The deafening noise
is not as loud up here
—shouting, screaming,
crying, mocking—

   but maybe it's just the screaming
   pain in my body drowning it all out

The sun—baking my torn flesh
As the flies buzz around
my open wounds—feels
hotter from up here

   Or maybe it's just because
   Their cold hearts are further away

The world looks harder from up here
Filled with sin, Caesars, and high priests
Who only love themselves
Who have no need for me

   Or maybe they are more in need of me now
   Than ever before

My heart feels different from up here
Hurting to the point of death

Loving
more than life itself

   But maybe...
   maybe if I can touch even one, single, life—

It will all be worth it.

—Megan McQuaig (Hjelmstad)

Originally published in Dappled Things Literary Magazine, Sts. Peter and Paul edition, 2006.