Nov 03
poem challenge: CJP-Waiting
Yellow Sweater's picture

Pride

I have had a headache all day. 
It throbs with the seconds, 
and headlines.  

I have taken to looking at my toes, 
just to reassure myself that they are still there.

I have been thinking about pride.

It feels like a cold pistol becoming hot, 
like tears right before they stain your coat.  

Proud Boys. 
American Cheese. 
American Flags. 
American Guns 

I am not thinking in numbers, 
or even outcomes, 
just pride. 

Proud Boys. 
Boys. 

They pull their triggers, 
They suppress their tears. 

I have been thinking about vulnerability. 

My female body.
My cis body.
My gay body. 
My white body.

Guns ravage bodies, 
so do tears, 
and poeple, 
and poems, 
and pride.