JayJay

I knew it was bad
when you didn’t even have to say it,
when I saw it in your eyes,
when I knew it in the way you folded your arms
and turned away when I spoke.

Democracy isn’t a mother 
who shields you from the storm;  
it’s the ghost of a father 
who leaves when the lights flicker,  
and promises turn to dust 
in his palms. 

When I was younger 

Not yet a teenager 

I was

Unprepared and fragile

I had no armor

No ammunition

And yet I was put into

A battle

Me against

Every single person 

Two doors, both locked, neither mine.
Two names, one I gave up.
Two voices, both demanding I choose.
A home is a shelter. A home is a question.

There’s this song,

Slipping Through My Fingers.

By ABBA. From Mamma Mia!

That's how I see it.

Our rights.

“I try to capture every minute.”

I like the pace of time. I think that life tends to move on on just the right cadence, and if I had a Time Machine I would use it to lock time at its current pace.