You are Not What Was Done

I stir

On occasion

Most times

It’s hard to know until I’m already spinning

Kicking and screaming

No! We worked so hard!

My spirit, deaf, dumb, blind

With rage, pain, hunger

Don’t call it Anger

Tearing up the corners of the Earth searching for another angle.

Call it Faithful

What’s faith in the face of hate?

Or Love when love for that hate can’t be denied?

When famine fed by fear finds that second wind

And you’re the tide

When Love’s locked away in perception and you can only see her through the caged hearts of man

Where your heart flutters at the sound of Love’s name but even that is painful

You remember the last time Love was in your lap.

That shit hurts

What did you trade Love for?

Would you remember it on the street?

Would it run to catch you when you fell?

Or was it what had you falling in the first place?