HIVE / HOPE
I want to tell a story without the word fear.
Something that sounds more like spring;
early-morning dew & pastel skies,
the smell of lemons & sugar.
But maybe I can’t say hope without panic.
There is something sacred in this tragedy.
Watching the bees build their hives,
a whole swarm of them, but only one queen.
They can’t live without her
(& somehow I understand.
This is a logic much older than I am:
there can be no bees without a queen
& just like that,
there can be no me without being afraid).
However, this story isn’t over yet.
Who knows, maybe I’ll be queen,
one day. Maybe I can learn to control
this fear & the buzzing in my head
will finally stop; I’m still hoping, but
my hands are shaking all the same.
By Hannah T. Rosenthal
Hannah T. Rosenthal is a nineteen-year-old aspiring writer currently living in Germany. She is interested in literature of all kinds and language, as well as various mythologies, philosophy and the human nature. More of her writing can be found at ourfragilestars.tumblr.com.