Stupid little election poem I made to help cope with it all.
We all frantically searched for the results.
Refresh, refresh, refresh.
And we fell asleep not knowing that was the last day of real security a lot of us had.
I wish us luck.
I talk to the others, we’re filled with hope with fear.
But we promise each other we will be okay.
I do this for them.
The next day: Heartbreak.
He wins, so our rights lose.
We did all we could.
But we couldn't vote, so it wasn’t enough.
I comfort my friends. I smile.
I tell them: “I am here for you.”
I give them hugs. I let them rant at me.
I do this for them.
And for the rest of the day, we fear.
I think about what this means for me.
My pride flag in my room, how long will that hang?
And my online friends rejoice over being in blue states.
But what does this mean for me, who is not?
I am sick, but I keep going. I persevere.
I don’t tell my teachers what’s going on. I don’t make a fuss.
I do this for them.
I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.
But I won’t let history erase me.
I am not just a girl.
I am Leah.
I have a name, I have an age, I have a life.
And that does not change.
I have to be myself:
because nobody’s going to do that for me.
I do this for me.













