Silence is an act of compliance,
and compliance is an act of violence.
It’s time for a new alliance;
one dedicated to the act of defiance.

For those of us with the privilege,
we need a stronger show of courage.
Leave behind concepts of modesty
and help tear down the industry.
Be louder than the loudest.
Be prouder than the proudest.
Help out your black brother,
even if it ****** off a white father.
Don’t sit still and idle.
Stand tall and fight the ecocidal.
Follow the rules of coups;
wear face covers and stronger shoes.
Keep on a bold face.
Make the world a better place.

The thought
"I love him,
I wish he could love me too"
danced throughout my head
and I realised then
that I had been hoping for
waterfalls from a pond.

They speak of freedom;
freedom of religion,
freedom of liberty,
freedom of speech.
But they will get mad
because I wrote this.
They will want my first freedoms taken soon
- the freedom to think
and the freedom to speak -
so they longer have to worry
about the criticism of their actions;
the criticism over the removal of the rest.

"United We Stand,
Divided We Fall".
Why can't I live
happily, peacefully
as I want
without being told it is wrong?
That is the creation of division.
That is the birth of the end.

The building is breaking,
the cameras aren’t recording,
and I’m supposed to do my job effectively?

The world is dying,
the economy collapsing,
the people falling in the street,
and I’m supposed to find a way to be happy?

The bills are unpaid,
the lights won’t turn on,
the water is brown and smells of syrup,
and I’m supposed to care about your new skin line?

Our minds are poisoned
with deception and false information,
kept distracted by flashing lights and one-liners once funny.
Our youth is gone before its start.
Our elders work until their final breath.
The children are crying, screaming, pleading for peace,
yet they know too that it’s too late.
And we’re supposed to count the blessings gone unseen?

I am alive,
but what does that even mean?
All I can do is breath,
and hope the smoke doesn’t destroy me.
I have a safe home,
if you ignore the lead and asbestos.
I have a good partner,
if you ignore all of the screaming.

I looked to my neighbour,
and saw their lawn had no grass either.
We looked across the street together, hoping for new sights.
But aside from the blood and the bullet holes
the people there had the same troubles.
We broke down in tears.
We heard the cries for help,
but were too busy fighting ourselves.
Another life gone,
unprevented by healthcare that doesn’t care.

The news lady spoke of another shooting today.
They showed the children hitting the windows
and asked one fleeing to speak of his dead friend.
They mentioned the staff member killed
while calling the police.
A parent was arrested trying to rush in.
They could have been saved,
but better to ‘keep the public calm’.
919 dead overall.

But still,
they want us to smile
and pretend to be happy
in what is supposedly the ‘greatest country’;
kept alive solely by those willing to give their lives
for what they consider to be a good fight.
We’re meant to never complain
for the sake of modesty and good names.
Meanwhile, 80-year-old men are arguing
over who gets to decide our fate.
God bless America,
and all the dead people living in it.
Prayers for those permanently lost to it.

Whisper to me secrets
in between breathless sighs
as we roll on the bed
in the quiet of the night.
Though the world is asleep,
we are awake.
As the daybreak comes,
so do we.
And when the saviour comes,
we won’t worry.
Your sins will become my sins,
my sins will become yours,
and yet despite being filthy,
we will feel clean.
I will shower you with kisses
full of love and passion.
When people ask me who you are,
I will say “she’s just a friend’.
Who needs to know about the way
we lie on the grassy fields,
holding hands and telling tales
of the other girls we’ve loved before?
Secrecy not preferred,
but how it is titillating.
Our secrets,
our sins,
our love
will be ours alone.
And I will be certain
that they die
with me.
And I will be certain
that the punishment
is well worth
the experience.

When we first spoke of Future,
I thought we were on the same page.
Dreams of happiness and comfort,
peace and togetherness.
But then we approached it again
and you instead spoke of money and travels,
and I realised it was
never the same.

When I mentioned having a home,
you first agreed that it was a need,
but only in a place
I would hate.
When I mentioned having a family,
you laughed at me and said ‘you wish’,
as though my feelings didn’t
matter to you.
When I was dreaming of you,
you were content dreaming of life without me.
I asked why I wasn’t
there with you,
and you said that I was
taking things too serious despite all our history.
Like I shouldn’t care that
we are temporary.
While I was lost in the
deep sea bright and clear in your eyes,
you were lost in thoughts
of real yachts
and a life that didn’t include me.

We were written in the same
fantasy book of a love stronger than love.
However, as we grew older,
our paces changed
and I disapeared chapters ahead of you.

I pledge allegiance to the flag
of the United States of America
and to the Republic for which it stands,
one nation, under God, indivisible,
with Liberty and Justice for all.

Justice for all our black neighbours
who have the honour of being murdered
should they make the mistake of looking
at a police officer the wrong way;
officers meant to unhold the meaning of justice.

Justice for the gays who’ve spent decades fighting
for their right to publicly exist,
even accepting torture as punishment
for the sake of the greater good;
only for those rights to be put back in a box.

Justice for the women bleeding in alleyways
at the hand of a man who knows
that even if he’s caught,
he’ll still get away with it.
He just has to blame it on her skirt.

Justice for the brothers and sisters
dying at the hands of their cruel parents
and a crueler system that would care more
if only they still existed in the womb.
A life being lived is a life not important, I suppose.

Justice for the mentally impaired
who were perceived as burdens
and God’s punishment for mankind to bear;
who are still fighting for their right
to work, own, and love as others do.

Justice for the felons who got the label
in a state of teenage recklessness,
who have not the right to vote
or have themselves a good career,
but get to watch another run for president.

Justice for the Natives who often go missing
and reappear mysteriously deceased,
but are rarely ever looked for
or never given any protections.
Who are still fighting for their right to keep their land.

Justice for the children
who have to practice lockdowns
in case their school is the next one attacked.
The fear of not going home heavy on their hearts;
thoughts and prayers the only thing sent if they die.

Justice for the non-Christians whose lives are threatened
and temples are frequently attacked
because they don’t fit under the allegiance,
for the don’t follow the ‘right’ God
or practice the ‘right’ way.

Justice for all of the lonely Americans
who have to watch their liberties
be put on the stand and questioned again.
The ones fighting one more time for the right to live.
To love. To be safe. To be a person.

Justice for the ones watching
The arrogant applaud their loss of freedoms
for the sake of their own personal gain.
Justice for the ones listening to their loved ones
tell them that it doesn’t matter.
I guess we just don’t matter.

To Liberty and Justice for all.