Poems exploring whether or not we create our world, through reflections past and current .
Are you in the coroner's corner?
With a face like a funeral you're
reaching for the next day
like you're glad it hasn't come for you.
Trying to survive
in the advents you subscribed
to isn't always the calmest
way to claim you're as American
as systemic racism.
You can't be looking ahead
while holding on to a past that
no longer exists.
Either you're here in the now,
or you've quit.
What does it mean when someone dies?
And what if it's your allies
doing the killing?
Are they still worth supporting?
To each their own but
I can't be a party to those who
treat certain lives so disposably.
I was taught life could be
You love looking forward,
away from the past and today.
It turns you on but it's coming for you