Chiseled by high school seniority,
A separation, a lost child.
The flood in my eyes dried in my Sahara heart.
Missing her is like cancelled plans, that I see the pictures of everywhere I look.
Broken down by
Two car wrecks, antagonistic election banter,
My words became my shield and others', their weapons.
Picked apart by
Toxic relationships, two sexual assaults.
My pants and lips stayed zipped.
Losing friends to violence,
In their homes and on the streets.
I light candles in my window and let their wind feed the fire.
Opposition of justice,
I stood up straight with my shoulders back,
In my own white pantsuit,
I waited for my opponent to slip up, let his podium become ironic.
Always being stepped on,
Breaking my back to build myself.
Breaking their comfortable expectation of a "safe space" for
Their reverse racism complaints.
The Guatemalan people,
Their color and fire among poverty.
Smiles and warm hands.