“All I wanted to do in my painting, the story I wanted to tell was: Look around you; they’re still here.” - Vincent Valdez

Years ago, I stood in front of it,
Anger, sickness, heartbreak,
All at once.

This is modern day.
Men in fancy watches,
Women in nice jewelry,
Holding their children.
In the background, a new truck,
One on his smartphone.

Angry, they hid behind robes,
Faces unseen, hidden, uncalled out.
Angry at their entitlement,
White, racist, arrogant.
Angry, knowing they were just a part
Of a bigger, uglier whole.

Disgusted, this was their normal,
Walking society's paths,
Believing their false superiority.
Disgusted, upper-class arrogance & bigotry,
Feeling more entitled, undeserved.
Disgusted, holding their children,
Teaching hate instead of love.

A grandmother walked in,
With daughter and granddaughter,
Seven, maybe.
This grandmother, strength personified,
A history facing all phases of prejudice.
The daughter, resentful,
Hardened acceptance,
Knowing this is our world.
The youngest, bright-eyed,
Clueless to the view,
Happy and innocent,
Listening to her Grandmother’s and Mother’s words,
Eyes uncertain, back and forth,
Until the words and the painting settled in,
Turning innocent eyes hollow & dark,
Shifting her spirit.

I broke, walked away,
Stomach churning, heart aching.
What is it like to be judged,
For just existing,
In a world so prejudiced?
I imagine so much like this moment.

I wanted to hug them,
To say it will be okay,
But I’m a white stranger,
And I know it isn’t.

Fixing this goes deeper
Than government’s reach.
Racism taught to infants,
Raised to hate, a cycle unbroken.

I watched George Floyd,
Helpless in the face of it.
Engraved racism, an impossible fight.

Yet, I see many stand,
Speak up, come together,
And in that, I find hope.

Is this what it feels like
To be seen
To be valued
To be understood
To be deeply engraved
Every layer visible
Admired for the way the elements form together
For the waves and imperfections that create the beauty of the whole
Are these anxious floating bubbles that are wildly swirling in my stomach, reaching for the back of my tongue…good?
(Good for me?)
Is this excitement
Is this fear
Is this hope
Is this sadness
Why does it have to be anything
Why can’t it just be, this. As it is.
Why do I lose my words but hold them overflowing in my hands
Why am I so uncomfortable in my own skin
Why does writing that nearly break my dam
Is this my lack?
Of self worth
Of inability
Of being so far behind
Standing in my own shadow
Afraid if the light filled me I could be
Is this why I’m not enough
Is it me?

You found me on the floor again not wearing anything
I'm so sorry baby sometimes I just get weak
I didn't mean to scare you
yes, I can hear you

You fill me up with honey and tell me it's gonna be fine
We'll get through this together, You're not alone this time.
Yes, I can hear you
I just can't feel you - at all

You don't know what's in my head It's like I'm losing ground
For a moment I'm up just to crash back down
I can't seem to handle my own two feet
I get so ****** tired and I feel so weak

Yea I know I'm moving slow but Im trying my best
I don't need your angry tone on top of this burden on my chest
It's not good enough for you
but it's the best I can do

Two feet on the floor again I think I've lost my mind
The whole world's gone a blur, No, I'm not alright
My hands are shaking, I'm going crazy
It's hard enough to just get by
I know it makes you angry
So, I'll turn my head while I cry

You say baby look at me and I stare right into you
You say baby listen to me and I am listening to you
But you're miles away
We're miles away

Two feet on the floor again, no, I'm not alright

In between dreaming and the harsh awareness of reality,
my hand found the place where you used to lay,
brushing against the perfectly unmoved sheets,
making its way to the perfectly
untouched pillow.

Eyes opened, gazing, sinking as reality set in.
You weren’t just up early,
walking the dog,
making us coffee,
…
waiting to wake me with a kiss to the forehead.

My knuckles turned as white as the sheets
as they clenched the place that once was you,
holding onto whatever they could of your memory,
believing if I squeezed hard enough,
I could get the last drop of you out—

just for this morning.

When I look at myself I wonder where I went
my thighs are too big
my stomach is soft
And my glow got lost somewhere under the flat roof, behind these blackout curtains

Who am I
Will I ever know beside him
Does he complete me
Does he just cover up what hurts
Does he just hurt me too much to go

Is this what cold feet feels like
I've dipped my toes
I've jumped in
And the river is flowing and pushing me through
And somehow I'm still clinging to warm breaths

For him?

Or just enough so I can pull myself out and run as hard as I can in the furthest direction from him
So I have a chance

What if he never touches me
In a way that doesn't need words

What if I go through life on his eggshells
Under his thumb
Under those eyes that go from soft to rigid stones

Like a water color
Beautiful and undefined
Bleeding into the threads
Of his love

I've met so many with switches
I love them with all I have
I light them on fire, I cater to their
Every want, their every need, I
Polish them until they shine, I
Rewire them and untangle their crosses and label them so
Meticulously
And things get a little overloaded
A breaker trips and they read the
Labels and find my name
stare at me, analyze me, and then
Flip their switch
Shut it all down
And walk on

Everything it changed when you met her
Yea, you went and gave her our whole world (our whole world, our whole world)

I thought we would always be the same
Then you went and gave her our last name (and that ring, that awful thing, stupid bling)

Now I'm left here layin' all alone
Thinking about me thinkin' about you thinkin' about her

There are things that I shouldn't really say
But I'm gonna say 'em anyway (like I hope she ***** in bed and gains a lot of weight)

Everything it changed when you met her