It has been a while since I dared to make a wish.

It has been a while since I dared to make a wish.
For I know the bitter truth.
Of this world I never made.

It targets dreams and wishes.
Strangles them.
Beats them.
Carves them into parts.
Before your very eyes.
Because you dare to dream
Of a better world.
Of a kinder life.

Sometimes, I know, it’s better,
And so much easier.
To be silent.
To not make any wishes.
To not have any dreams.
To keep them buried.
To keep them safe.
From this world I never made.

But today…

Today I heard that small, quiet voice.
The one that lives inside my soul.
The one that whispers quietly.
The one that never lies to me.
The one that knows the truth.

That voice…

The voice of my heart…

And I know.
I know.

There is a wish I have to make.
Before I can ever sleep at night.
In this world I never made.

Come at me once again, you demons.
You shadows in the dark.
Strike from the corners,
Where the light doesn’t shine.
Where you hide.
And wait.
Until I speak the truth.

I know then you always strike.
But you can never win.
Never silence.
That small voice.
That quiet voice.
That never lies.
That speaks the truth.

Today I make a wish.
For friends.
For friends I do not know.
Friends I will never meet.
Whose hands I will never get to hold.
Whose hugs I will never know.

Today I make this wish.
For them.
And for me.
May it shine a bit of light
Where it needs to go.
Into the dark corners,
And the darker hallways.
Of this world I never made.

I saw the words of a wounded soul today.
Cold,
Black,
Impersonal words.
Black, digital patterns.
On a field of white.
It was a cry for help.
So very obvious to me.
Like I could hear the words.
Cried out by a heart.
Left too alone, for too long,
In this world of dark, and cold.

And I found I wished an old wish once again.
But in a different way.

I have always wondered if perhaps,
I should get a chair.
A wheelchair.
Not a fancy one.
A simple one.
That I’d have to push around myself.

I have always wondered if perhaps,
I should find such souls.
Trapped.
Wounded.
In the dark.
And in the cold.
And grant them simple wishes.
Wishes I know they don’t receive.
Make dreams come true for them.
In a world that’s stolen everything.

Perhaps someday I should.
Get that chair.
And take my car.
And drive.
Drive to where those wounded are.
And ask them,
Please,
If they would care
To take a walk with me.
Through the flowers of a garden somewhere.
Along the boardwalk of a beach.
In a bookstore filled with books.

Or if they have somewhere,
Someplace they dream of going.
That the never go.
That the never see.

And give the gift to me.
Of giving that to them.

It would mean
They wouldn’t be invisible.
They wouldn’t have to live alone.

So, there’s my wish,
World that I never made.
I may never see the day
When I strive to make that wish come true.
There are too many parts of me,
Too many parts of my soul.
That are long gone.

But I know.
Even writing down the words.
Making my wish known.
In this world I never made.

Is a dangerous thing to do.

And perhaps.
Perhaps.
My heart is only trying to tell me
What I know I should really do.

I do not know.
I only know.
What I wish for on this day.
In this world.
I never made.

Come at me world.
I know you will.
I know you have to kill.
This simple wish I’ve made.

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