Tainted Sand

A poem about the grit we gain from what we survive.

Grain after grain

the sand sprinkled over me.

I watched

as it was blended

with the white sand

that wasn’t mine.

For sand

is to conform

to a certain

shade in this pit.

My sand was tainted

it had been

through some shit.

While my sand

no longer sparkled

it had lots of grit.

I decided that

white sand

was blinding

it didn’t hold

my truth.

The further I dug

in white sand,

the more it all

came loose.

I’m proud

of my tainted sand

that has lots of grit

because now,

when life

shifts it

the sand

doesn’t split.