Isn’t Your Heart Full?

I cannot seem to understand how hate can reside in a heart.

How is there room? 

Isn’t your heart full of love?

Love for your life? 

Love for your friends? 

Love for your family? 

Isn’t your heart full of hope?

Hope for tomorrow? 

Hope for a thousand tomorrows? 

Isn’t your heart bursting at the seams? 

So, how is there any room for the hate you have for me?

Marx’s Grave

Our bellies are full of grass-fed, pasture raised, hormone free eggs

Our flannels are tired around our waists

We are going to change the world

Mason jars line our shelves

We are preservative free

Our conscious is woke

Our microbrews and faux leather shoes

Show you that we know better

We tweet and tag about it all from our rose gold iphones

We’re not a slave to the production line

You can’t sell to us

Can’t you see? My beef is lactose free.


January 31, 2017 (Social)

Our apps and profile pictures keep us too busy to remember our own mortality. 

Scrolling and scrolling. 

Reposts and tags. 

We forget the arbitrary frivolity of it all. 

We are all scrambling and winding to the same fate.

No amount of likes will save us. 

Our walls and feeds will all end the same. 

We will all breathe a final breath, and our hearts will all beat a final beat.

January 27, 2017 (Divided)

Where I see hate, they see hope.

Where I see misogyny and xenophobia, they see the return of traditional American values.

Where I see an administration that is thriving on fear and misinformation, they see the end of a crooked Washington.

How can our differences be so stark?

I know the human experience is varied, but we are all living in the same country.

How has our America become so divided, again?

Whether we want to admit it or not, we are in the midst of a civil war.

Instead of swords and muskets, we are armed with Twitter and Facebook, and we take no mercy.

January 25, 2017 (Louder Together)

I feel as if I’m screaming into a void. 

I can see my words rise up out of my throat and slowly climb until they evaporate into nothing.

I scream again and again, but it all falls into the void. 

I start to question whether I should scream at all. 

Is my small voice worth anything?

Will anyone ever hear me? 

Just as I want to give up and walk away, 

The small voice next to me whispers, “I can hear you.” 

As we begin to scream together, our voices make it further than they ever did on their own.