Never again will we entertain this tyranny that wears a thousand divisive masks but is always a scared and greed-scarred child-man hiding behind a curtain.
I’m sure you, like me, have days when you wonder if you’re enough -- if you’ve spent your moments wisely. Of feeling deflated when you hold yourself up against the goals and ideals you had for yourself and realize you’re not there. When you regret both doing and not doing things.
You won’t know how to quantify, justify, dignify my body, because it exists inside memory. And how can you measure memory? My body is a rocky pile of loose and slippery hope, a sky-scraping wall of shame, a holy cathedral for worship, and a soothing haven for rest. Tell me, how will you measure ...