This is how we grieve in the wild

Barefoot and braced for shaking ground:
In Africa, we know war and hardship
Yet it hasn’t prepared me for any of this. 

Stripped down and walking to fetch water;
this is as vulnerable as it gets. 
Face, painted the colour of blood
and skin covered with dirt.

Poised to escape upon any attack
I lack the gall to stand and fight 
even though I’ve won
all the battles I’ve fought so far.

I am callous and uncaring
yet empathic to a fault. 
I’ll kill my darlings before yours
and spend my life seeking another.