I was thirteen when I figured out that water

Doesn’t come without a price

And I’ve come to terms with the millions of

Starving children that don’t cry for food

But for a freedom that tastes like the sun burning

Out from underneath them

 

And maybe I haven’t been able to face the truths that

Wrap around my legs and drag me down as a polished

Women in clothes that cost more than me walks past

I wonder if she lets her guilt burn the inside of her mouth

The way alcohol does

Because I know she feels the stares of the fifteen year old

Just trying to get by with scraps

I do

 

You see, the trees use to whisper to each other in their

Own language and I’ve waited a long time to glimpse

What they’ve needed to say to the human

Race who’ve cut them down and used their bodies

For paper to bleed on

Their roots are twisted with each other, begging not

To leave and the birds have been crying

They’ve been crying

 

When we walk, we are not gentle.

We do not stop for anything that isn’t worth the time

And I’ve been thinking, letting it flicker between my

Mouth

That this is some kind of message to take a step forward

Instead of being shoved back

And I want to sink my teeth into a revelation that this

Will be okay

We will be okay and this shall pass

 

A child will be born in January and realize that his

Mother fought for a kind of freedom that took

Over thousands of years to settle

And that he’s going to grab onto the future

Without stepping on a flower that is the size of a fist

And that using the water and the woods and the children

Who work in winter isn’t needed

 

This is a start and the end

and a change that will start with one step forward

And nothing holding us back