my body is tired because i hold the world's pain inside me. venom seeps through my shirt to show a naked breast, exposing me.
my most vulnerability to the world.
when i met her eyes, what did she think? I sat inside the confined private space of a restaurant; while she bled through a white T-shirt, right beneath her left breast, right above her ribcage. without teeth she could not chew the food she had put into her mouth, right before the waiter forcibly removed her.
because the color of her skin, guns point at her direction.
she is not meant to be alive, not according to this world.
maybe in another world, she will be born free; she'll become a soaring eagle, flying over concrete messes beneath. she will be born to fly, to hunt only for what is needed, to build her own home, her own life. she will learn by watching the sun rise and set and experience through the changing faces of the moon. she will love the world as the world will love her because each need each other.
quiero llorar porque reconozco
that eagles are flying towards extinction and are every day dying, like the woman in the street, bleeding out of her heart onto lonely sidewalks.
what good is it that i watch the sun rise and set, feel it touch my toes through an open window? that i see life grow from a sprouted seed; seedlings, cracking open through hard shells, forcing life into existence, again and again.
what good is this, though, if my heart keeps bleeding?
