your sadness is not poetic

your truth is not spilled in metaphors or alliterations

you are full of sorrow and anger yet you feel empty

sometimes you are light

other days the cracks between the darknes —are the only light you see

you are thriving even though some days you only feel existence

you are existing in an environment that does not breathe in life

you are having been denied a chance, yet finding place—

the hopelessness does not—make you encounter a kind of found poets speak of

you are activist sparked for change

you are learning organizer

you are finding love unconventionally

you are finding a voice

yet some days you are silent.

not in a bystander type of silence

but processing type of silence

silence that speaks more than art itself.

you are living. you are existing. you are light.

today, you are, and sometimes that is more than enough.


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