stream of conscioUSness

I’m not really sure
what to feel about things right now.

I’d love to know why people act like they’re single when they aren’t.
I’d love to know why people honk at you when you’re driving the limit.
I’d love to know why people knock you down just so they can feel higher.

This isn’t supposed to make sense.

Life doesn’t make sense. Not now. Not here. Not this.

I see trees of green being swiftly cut down to make room for plastic processing plants that wrap toys sent into stores in color-coded aisles because boys can’t like Barbies and G.I. girls don’t get marketed. Red roses too often echo blood stains on hoodies and car seats and jail cells and I can’t breathe because my lungs are so sore from screaming Stop This Madness, Black Lives Matter, but I’m white and will never know what it’s like to not be seen as the standard of living. I see them bloom their hate from water fountains to marriage to bathrooms to ‘protect the children’ — because it’s easier to hide behind the Bible than admit fear and bigotry.

We live in a world that reminds us to be ourselves, love who we are, embrace our individuality,

but not too much.

but not with them.

not like that.

I’m not really sure
what to do about things right now.

But something has to be done.