We are not

Mon, 07/11/2016 - 13:59 -- swmacha

I can’t believe I was starting to think

that I might be comfortable in my own skin

that the spinning of the world

might be tipping upright again

and the breeze might soon

smell sweet and welcoming.

 

I can’t believe that I thought

some silly laws were changing things

that I was safe to hold my partner’s hand

because someone who has never feared

said it would be okay.

 

I can’t believe that someone

who could never understand this fear

can stand at the head of a crowd and shout

Love Will Always Win.

 

We are not love.

We do not want to win.

 

We want to live.

I want to not feel a dull ache every time

I look over my mother’s shoulder at the news

and see another one of us dead,

to not wince at the sting when she says

Nothing

and turns the page to more interesting news.

 

The world tilted off its axis that night

sent us spinning away from hope

bitter reminders to the tune of

Should Have Done It Sooner

and

Good For Him

and

Wish I’d Thought Of Doing This.

 

When they look at our bodies

Strewn in the streets

Across the floors of desolate clubs

Scattered on the white house steps

Broken in our own homes,

and tell us that it is fine,

That love is love,

That love wins.

 

We are not love.

We are people

And we are afraid.

This poem is about: 
My community
My country

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