No Kings Day

We grow under and though others choices, visions, feelings. and beliefs. Their experiences becoming ours.

Innocence and purity that become robbed and tarnished, one that maladapts.

Traces of stains left behind. Ones that seem impossible to erase. Ones that seeped through once white bright fabric. Cutting deep into the skin.

Yet with little odds and drying hopes, it’s reached, it’s gained… the ability to rewrite and realign the stars. Again we hope, hope that we can undo or outrun what was once unavoidable.

Washing off slowly the stains left behind, fading old scars with the persistence to forget.

But can we keep us clean? keep us from reopening old scars? Can we continue this pursue until there’s enough in us to spare without despair?

Freedom we want, freedom we seek, freedom we scream.

Yet, we continue to lend our lives and the responsibility of its fulfillment to others. Limiting our own potential, to nourish theirs.

We water other grounds while we wilt and wither. Allowing weeds to suffocate the identity that once again is being robbed.