we’re in a state of fear. a state of haven’t said the pledge all year, a state of not allowed in public restrooms, a state of guessing whose life will fall apart first. we were born from the cracks in the flag, wear it backwards because we’re still craning our necks to see the stars. america the beautiful disaster, we’re still after a fulfillment of the same promises. someone waits outside the local mosque with a gun for weeks, watches everyone’s knees that came here for prayer not to start shaking; this never makes it to the paper. we’re in a state of denial. a state of meanwhile in new york, in baltimore, in atlanta, a state of condemning every city except ours. this land was never only home to the free. this land is yours; it doesn’t belong to people like me, kissing girls in between every anthem. this land was made for people other than us. this land is in a state of riots.