today, i awoke and there were tears on my pillowcase that i did not remember shedding – as if my body knew, before my mind, that i was waking into a nightmare.
there is a dark cloud that is lingering above my heart. it aches, and i feel the fire of a thousand hopes being ignited by the torches of those with scowling faces and black-as-ash hearts;
today, i awoke and smelled smoke, and it seemed too much of a cliche to even be true.
i hold the hands of those i love most, and i can see the fear reflected in their eyes.
do you want to know why i am afraid? because i am one day going to raise a daughter in a world that told her that her sexual safety is not enough; i am going to raise a son in a world that told him that if you bully, you will succeed.
the sun came out this morning, even though i can feel the knots turning themselves into metal in my stomach. the sun came out this morning, and i hold the hands of those i love most – i hold the hands of those whose hearts are bleeding just as profusely as my own.
and the smoke doesn’t smell like death, anymore. i think of the word “hope.”
have you ever heard of a phoenix?
— mourning today, battle tomorrow // (h.q.)