Impervious Truth: "Pride" by Dahlia Ravikovitch

People are resilient to almost all earthly elements. For every one we have built walls,

masks, armor, weapons, shelter, and an impervious cloak to defend us against their full

effect. Any way to lessen the discomfort and pain that might be endured. ‘Pride,’ written by

Dahlia Ravikovitch compares people to rocks: our almost fond way of ignoring our needs to

conform into what’s believed to be expected of us. Folding into ourselves from pressures

external and internally inflicted. How long can we hide before our defenses collapse? Will

you be ready?

What could be more depressing than seeing a beaten dog destroyed? Its duplicity to

love its tormenter with hopeful eyes, obedience, and a tail inverted for an eternity, until

slowly, it just can’t. Watch the innocent soul die or cower in the corner and hope for mercy

you’ve never shown. Middle grounds are nonexistent for the tormented. ‘For years they lie

on their backs, in the heat and the cold…it almost seems peaceful.’ Muzzled mouths do

not mean they are not screaming. How long can you sustain coherency?

Wait in absent terror to see the rack gain another notch. ‘Whoever is going to shatter

them hasn’t come yet’ Deny it, if you please, but as you fall asleep no amount of mind-

altering substances will keep the truth from forcing its way known. You have curbed your

tongue with a brank and tolerated your suffering; believing it deserving, numbing to

alternatives. Your executioner’s silhouette gains features. Hollowed eyed and a leering quirk

of the mouth, the wheel is turned and your humerus is pulled from its sockets. Scream your

penance for ‘suddenly the rock has an open wound.’  

Clouds are intangible treats, shielding you from harsh rays while cooling and calming

the soul. Yet, on days of intense heat, they are nowhere to be found, uncomfortable and

burnt; how are you going to cover conspicuous scars? Self-imposed prison has...