we're spinning.
spinning.
spinning.
in the next instant,
it's gone.
the fading laughter is still caught in my throat.

a million lines make a window:
each suspended,
each digressing in the paleness
of space.

this distance from
you (a blotch of dark ink,
bits of pressed lead)
can never hurt more
than your expectation.

i have often felt frayed at the edges slightly,
as if at any moment I would fade into nothing,
the way ink dissipates when water hits the page.
there are moments when I feel real again.
sometimes when the air is cold enough to sting my throat, I swear I am visible.
sometimes when the sun rises early in the morning, and the fog rolls across the street, and the birds softly awaken, I swear the world sees me too.
but the feeling is fleeting,
and once again I feel like the faint sound of a seagull in the distance, or the quiet sensation when you know it’s about to rain.
almost there, but not quite.

we're in your car and it
smells warm, solid.

you envelop me,
your eyes are pools of nightfall:
we're brushing shoulders—

time didn't stand still
even though i wanted it to.

Women are not allowed to be angry.
We are taught to be quiet, easy, pretty.
We cannot yell, because that does not make us beautiful.
We are taught to be delicate, dainty, soft.
We are not allowed to be angry.
1 in 5 women will be sexually assaulted before they graduate college.
60% of the world's malnourished population are women.
830 women die from preventable causes due to pregnancy or childbirth.
We are not allowed to be angry.
Women earn 77 cents to every dollar a man makes.
62 million girls are denied educational around the world.
4 out of 5 victims of human trafficking are girls.
Female genital mutilation affects 300 million girls worldwide.
5 African American women die from breast cancer each day.
We are not allowed to be angry.
Our president mocked a ****** assault survivor on live television.
Our country elected a ****** abuser to the Senate.
63% of **** cases go under reported.
We are not allowed to be angry.
Women of color are stereotyped as angry without even opening their mouths.
Women of native descent are 3 times more likely to be sexually abused in their lifetime.
We are not allowed to be angry.
We are not allowed to be angry when we hear classmates talk about how they were sexually assaulted and no one cared,
tears streaming down her face. She was 16.
We get told to "calm down, you're being dramatic" by people we thought we could trust, people we love.
We are mocked for our passion, for our apathy, for our triumphs and for our failures.
Feminism has become a ***** word.
But it is the only way,
the only way,
we can gain our equality, our freedom.
I don't want to be terrified of being alone at night.
I don't want to watch what I say around a group of men.
I don't want to feel scrutinized in every article of clothing I wear.
I don't want to be sexualized for having *******.
I don't want to be scared of being alone with a boy at a party.
I don't want to be called angry when I speak up for my rights.
We are not allowed to be angry.
But we are.
We are angry.

I can talk to trees. The secret, you see, is listening. Go ahead, try it

sometime. Quiet your mind and focus on the rhythm of the world

around you. When you look for it, the heartbeat of the earth is very

easy to hear. Press your palms against the bark and focus on the way

the wind flows over and around everything, focus on the way the

grass and flowers push up to reach the sun, focus on the way the tree

breathes in the air around it. I can see the tree's memories of weather

and growth; the stillness reflects my own. If the tranquility was a

color, it would be the flush of a cheek coming in from the cold; if it

was a sound, it would be the lazy hum of a bee in summer; it if was a

scent, it would be sweet, like springtime flowers.