Reid@YWP

The irony is not lost on me. The day that Donald J. Trump will be inaugurated, is the same day as Martin Luther King Jr. Day.

Without sound, I am adrift,
a puppet with severed strings,
my movements hollow, my purpose lost.
But when the music takes a breath
it fills the empty space,
giving weight to each movement,
meaning to each pause.

The animals already knew when it happened. They all started dying.

Salty.

I lick my lips, trying to clean my face. Then I remember, I am not a cat. I lift my hand to my eyes to dry the tears the old fashioned way. They are cold. I am holding hands with myself. 

How did we get here?  
With a man who lies  
and stirs the storm,  
who turns hate into headlines  
and power into a joke.