To be heard, or is that vulnerability?

To be strong, or is that defiance?

Conform, or stand alone?

I dream to have the courage to be heard

To shout that the pigment in their skin is not a

consent form engraved with letters that read ‘shoot me’.

Or would that be too direct?

To scream that what they’re wearing-rather

anything they do is not an open-for-all invitation to intimacy.

Or would that force self reflection?

To yell that they, no matter who, deserve understanding.

Or would that provoke too much emotion?

I yell and my words will stay weighted awkwardly in the air.

Being passionate must mean being irrational.

So I just nod, and my body fights

to force a smile that won’t inflict accountability.