revolt (n).


I am not done grieving
that I woke up in a country
I do not recognize when
I brought to their altar
my story of betrayal
and they told me
to go home.

I am not done grieving
all of the women who have
raised me and held me up
that have come with their
stories, who have come with
their aching hearts patched
in various ways, we are talking
generations of women
gathering with the same story
and the same sorrow.

I am not done grieving and
I want to feel
so many other things like
the glow of the morning and
the warmth of my lover and
words spilling out of my chest and
the tender nonsense of children.

I am not done grieving so
every word I can create
is a protest against
letting this be the
thing that ends me,
hardens me,
makes me silent.