Permanence is not a real concern
How can you guess the future
Anxiety without reason then
A lonely expectation not to be understood
Coupled with her absense
Alexia, what will I do without you?
Missing a presense so deeply
That the lack of it spirals into sadness
Heavy feet hit the sidewalk
Past the blackberry bushes each day
Lately the steps have been heavier
And my head swung lower than usual
Why is that saddness is so tiring?
Anxiety fills my belly
Grumbling for isolation
As I sit at a table with friends I have spent countless hours with
Because they cannot really love me
Skeptical and distant, I speak
Of the day’s activities and the weather
Sticking to safe ground
I am more wobbly than before
I remind myself
You know them, it’s okay.
Yet permanence is all a myth.
We will all die some day
Or lose each other much sooner than that.
He interupted us to bestoy his assertive advice and opinions upon us. It’s interesting when someone thinks it’s their job to teach others. It shows that you’re under the assumption that you know more than I. I find the patriarchial teachings of boys in our society to play out in nearly every way of life, including in regular conversations. I can hear it in his patronizing tone or the way he agressively stands up and wafts his hands in the air when talking. I can feel it way he disregards my positions, no matter what they are. I am not your stage to stand on. I calmy ask questions like, “well, do you think you would have reacted so strongly if you hadnt taken it personally?” And “ignorance isnt an excuse” only to be met with personal and strong retribution.
I read an article today about cis men acting violent in conversations and arguements because that is how we are taught men are supposed to be. It’s good practice for me to know how to respond although I really don’t want to engage or fight battles I dont care about. When people who I havent chosen to admire insist on bestowing their all knowing wisdom upon me, it is humorous more than irritating. Usually these kinds of people are macho men who see me as a young and far from equal girl who ought to listen to them. What they don’t know is that I am letting them learn their own lessons most of the time. I choose not to engage or care despite being culturally taught that men’s burdens are mine to carry. It’s proper for a girl to listen to their worries and offer consolidation and comfort. But that’s not why I’m here. I actually am going to pick and poke at your egotistical tribulations and advice to remind us both that you are not in a position of authority between us.
This is good practice because you are my friend. But the people who I’ll see do this in my life time wont always be. This is easy now because I know you and love you, so I can separate your patronizing tone from the person you are. But the battle to fight is much bigger than just you and I.
So what to do? Sit calmy, and use your wit. Fight the battle with as little words and energy as you need. But dont stay silent because you were born with a voice. That is one of the greatest powers of the human existance. We can use it to better the world, one challenge at a time.
I tried to spend as much time with her as I could before she had to go.
In the early morning the sun rises.
The hours of dawn are reserved for the thoughtful.
She rises beside me
How beautiful it is that she chooses to light up this world each day.
How lucky am I to be awake,
sitting in the east side window
so that I am a part of her light.
The warmth makes feel alive but
the day is passing and I am scared of the cold.
I run to the window grasping at the sunlight that is just illuminated dust.
She whispers to me that she is also
afraid of the darkness.
I stand on the windowsill and shout,
“I am here. I will be light too.”
I wonder if that is true.
The dawn brings forward the heat of the sun.
What would we do without her?
She beams on the ocean, the farmlands, the rivers, and even the tallest mountains.
The night is coming I know because now she is farther and farther away.
Panic fills my heart and I shout
“Don’t leave me! I can not bear to live without you! Please please come back!”
But she cannot hear me anymore.
I run out of my door and run and run and don’t stop until I reach the coast.
I must go farther I urge myself stepping into the icy water,
shouting anxiously at the sky,
“No! Come back! I am not light! I cannot bare the darkness!”
only for her to return to play in the morning.
I will not sit silent anymore
And watch my world burn
In racist rhetoric
And “80 death” terror
I will not watch my world burn
They’re scared because we’re older now
A new voice is rising
I will not listin to racist rhetoric
I demand acknowledgement of Climate Change!
Even the Democratic Party listens
I will not watch “80 death” terror
And preach hate.
This is the first election that millenials are 33% of the voting generation
Only other as large are baby boomers
I am here and I have something to say.