We are not
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.