This country was founded on the idea of being who you are in liberty, yet there are people trapped in closets because the monsters are on the other side and the darkness has become too comforting at this point; the face of death has become too beautiful to want to turn away. We are hidden, dancing around the idea of being hung as perfectly as that shirt that was “too gay”; planning our proposal to the Grim Reaper because, at this point, he is the only man who can “turn us straight”. We’re rolling out our blueprints and studying the structure of surviving instead of accepting that we’re different and actually living. The pride that used to live in us died a long time ago, maybe around the same time we were in the closet writing our suicide notes; for others, it was the day they were calling their loved ones for final words before their pulse was devoured by the hurricane.
This country was founded on the idea of being who you are in liberty, yet it was built off blacks and Native Americans forced into captivity; sold and sent off into slavery. The basis of this country is “freedom”, but… I’m still trying to find the point in time when we practiced what we preached, um - have you heard the joke about the Annoying Orange? He was elected president. No, wait, I think it was actually part of a horror movie. I’m sorry, was that racist? Because there are people on twitter who rant about how “REVERSE RACISM DOES EXIST” and “WHITE OPPRESSION”, now please don’t get offended, but it’s 2017 and the true founders of these divided, yet technically united, states are being held at gunpoint simply for being born that way. Just when we thought the crackling of our spines was enough to run the white boys away, they had to send their dads in to drop charges labeled “thief”, “thug”, and “felon” on our shoulders until they crushed our will to live. Now don’t have hope on justice for that is nothing but a fairy tale. If you haven’t already realized, the dragon of their arrogance grows the more they see us fail.
This country was founded on the idea of being who you are in liberty, ...but we forgot to include women in the subtext. Did I say “we”? I’m sorry. I meant HE, and not HE as in God who created you and me, but HE as in the Annoying Orange and every Arrogant Coconut elected to run this country. Apparently, we must conform to their manly mentality, their barbaric way of living because
“Women are too emotional”
“She’s probably PMSing”
But tell a guy he throws like a girl and watch his estrogen crawl from the deepest corners of his eye sockets as he runs away; their faces flushed with shame… because being feminine is something to be ashamed about. Throwing like a girl is offensive. Losing to your girlfriend in 2k is not Ok.
“You must obey me” they say.
“You belong in the kitchen”
And all we knew to say was “ok”.
You see, I’m tired of being tamed by men and am regurgitating all these false allegations.
I will not stop eating chocolate cake to please you. I love chocolate cake. It pleases me.
I will not watch my weight to protect your pride. Loving my weight is my pride.
I will not do squats because you want to post a picture of me on Instagram under hashtag thicc. I hate exercising. It’s exhausting.
I will only stop eating chocolate cake when I start to break out in places I shouldn’t.
I will only watch my weight when my doctor tells me I will die otherwise.
I will only do squats when I want to check myself out in my new bikini in the summertime.
This country was founded on the idea of being who you are in liberty, but it’s difficult to get the message across without learning the word “respect”.
You. Heterosexual judging me. Respect our various identities.
You. Caucasian individual. Acknowledge and respect our black history.
You. Cisgender male oppressing my womanhood. Respect your own mother.
You. Liberal teen defending your right to believe. Respect the worn out Cheeto puff.
And you will see…
Maybe one day we will know a free America.
Mind your manners
Mind how you speak
Mind the hemline of your dress,
and the curves of your breasts
Mind your business
Mind your make-up
Mind your desires
Mind your men,
because don’t you know that
‘behind every great man lies a woman’?
Mind your mind,
for your thoughts even,
are too risky for our youth
Mind your Truth
Mind your Self
Mind your entire beautiful Being,
for the love of God,
don’t mind this when we’re in bed
I’m from Poughkeepsie
I’m from a family of a mother, a step-dad, a step-brother, and a younger brother
I’m from a big white house with a porch and a garden
But I’m not from happiness.
I’m from sadness
I’m from anger
I’m from disappointment
And I’m from fear.
I’m from going to school with hand prints on my face and bruises on my body
I’m from oppression
I’m from thinking it was okay.
Later I’m from stress
I’m from anxiety of messing up even slightly
I’m from rape and other sexual abuse
I’m from hiding and staying quiet
I’m from depression and crying myself to sleep
I’m from self-harm and attempted suicide
I’m from self-hatred and disgust
Thank god I’m not there anymore.
Today I’m from a new beginning
I’m from recovery
I’m from a higher self-esteem and contentment
I’m from actually being okay
I’m from being me
I refuse to ever go back.
Do not ask your citizens to apologize for you,
For your iron fists and oppressive ways.
Do not ask children to cower in school yards because they can't understand why they're being told to go home,
" I have to wait for my mum to pick me up."
Do not ask friends to shield friends from being punching bags,
From iron fists you support.
Do not ask women to surrender their rights,
Because you as man need to be dominant.
Do not ask companies to shamefully prevent travel,
Because you are iron fisted and dense.
You do not ask because you do not care,
But we do it nonetheless.
Dangerous times nearing midnight. Every day opens with fresh blood or ink drying down our throats, "...and I Must Scream.", Harlan Ellison 
Honeycombs of humanity sink into themselves and form a thick syrup they claim will cure our ailments, but still tastes like Third Reich™ nationalism. They burn our shelters and chant, "Home."
Resistance looks strange. People aren't choking on gag orders, they're going around the wall, but hundreds are behind bars for protest, or still getting killed on the streets, or getting hosed down in the cold for advocating clean water. They're putting bounties on antifascists.
We beat that prick Richard Spencer, but we're yet to strike the one in the White House.
Rattlesnakes under our heels, we've grown into something fiercer.
Just Words... They Say
They say... Just Words
These Jackals and their cackles
These Hyenas and their chortles
These words which slay with every key stroke
These words which vilify, contorting all perception
These words which stalk with dangerous fear
These words which give voice to genocide
These words which command believers
These words which personify society
These words never have been just words
Justifying falsehoods that words are just words, with no consequences.
Just words which are just words to you,
Just words which are a death sentence for me.
I used to write
looking in the mirror, peering
out from behind the bars of these walls.
I used to see them
in the kitchen,
by the stove, seated:
docile at the table. Their chairs
were always a little
or maybe they just weren't there.
They'd wash--no scrub--
their hands among the dishes
until their manicures bled.
Then they'd stack the porcelain
in a heap out by last night's
rubbish and tomorrow's
Sometimes they'd smile
to themselves; a chuckle of menial
labor. But other times they'd cry
and groan and moan out the next
generation of household
women. I used to see
them everywhere. I wonder where
Calls for Patriotism,
Does not equal a compromise.
Complaining about divisiveness
Requesting unity, and patience
Is the luxury of the majority.
To ask such things, emulates ignorance
Offering togetherness, as blind eyes fall
On bodies littered in streets, or behind bars
It is to insist to further a cause of opposition
Allowing complacency to enslave and oppress