just to know that I’m alive

sometimes I struggle to remember how I’ve gotten to what I’ve become,

and others I don’t even ask to remember before it all comes crashing in. 

I do nothing but question-

how many people must see something for it to exist?

who determines was makes wasted time waste?

if I could go backwards, would I?

how do things always fall in a way that feels like this was the only way they could’ve when I never even know the sticks of fate have left my hand?

if I let go, would I fly or would I fall?

if the sky comes falling down

hello. hi there.

i have not let my heart fall into your fake pages for many nights and days. but here i am.

because i would like to tell future me something? because i feel wrapped in uncertainty? because i feel the same way i did months ago at Salem, in more ways than one?

maybe.

yes, maybe that is all of it.

or maybe i just don’t want to feel so alone.

i had words to say, and now that i have begun they have all slipped away.

every aspect of this future to come looks so dark i am not sure towards it is the direction i would like to go.

but time only moves one way

and i have not the power to change a single solitary molecule of this world except for my own thoughts

so forward i will go.

tree names

me, standing in a room, surrounded by boxes.

each box has a lock.

home to a series of event grouped together by time. my memories.

some are shut with luggage locks, easy to pry. others need combinations to be released, the rare few have more than one. most I let out sometimes, when I smell a certain smell or hear a string of notes. 

but there are a handful, just a few, that hide in the shadows behind all the other boxes held shut by deadlocks and duck tape, all the edges glued. these memories are meant to die inside, locked away.

I put them there.

but this morning, someone let them out.

and I remembering things I thought I swallowed deep inside, like the color of your shorts and the jokes we made in pain. the yellow school bus pulling up and six days later pulling away. I’m remembering the blueberry, the pancakes, the earth brown of the mugs. The words of songs I thought I forgot, the red of my blood on my hand, your grey hood, the movie in front the horse the sun. I try and slam the locker shut, I reach for the tape but suddenly everything is soaking wet, wet like the clear blue water we swam in that summer and I can’t I can’t I can’t breathe I forgot how to swim the walls are closing in.

And admist it all a small part of me tries to find reason. why did the lock break now when I worked so long to snap it shut?

What does it mean?

How I have moved forward with two of them when I locked our beginning away?

The questions are meant to make sense 

But you can’t question without air

And I’m on the middle of drowning.

I’m still with her, and I’m always for us

I have cried many tears in the last 12 hours.

My heart is so heavy. I have so many questions. The words to describe how I feel are numerous, all clouded in fear, disbelief and anger.
How is this who we are? The answer is that it is but it’s also not. 

These results reflect what this country, as a democracy, has decided to represent and embody and promote for the next four years. Ideals like sexism, racism, anti-Muslim, anti-LBGTQ+, unacceptence, intolerance, the need to have power even if it means the total disregard of others. This is what the “United” States will stand on for the next four years, reflected in our House, our Senate and most of all in our president elect.

But this is not who we are. Not as individuals, not even as a whole. As of now, Hillary Clinton has won the popular vote. That means more people marked the ballot for her than for her opponent. 

Data has shown that millennials, ages 18-29, voted overwhelmingly for Clinton. 

My Facebook feed is covered in posts offering hope, pledging support to minority groups, promising to fight until this is no longer reality. 

My students at school, second graders, first graders, kindergarteners, all expressed outrage and disbelief that the results ended in the favor of the Republican Party nominee. 

Yes, there a hundreds of things at play here. Yes, the white people of this country have much work to do to become better, myself included. Yes, privileges must be checked. Yes, in many ways this election was an unfair game. Yes, yes, yes and a thousand other things. 

 But while I continue to educate myself on all aspects of US, and international, politics affairs, I try to remember something too, something I often forget: there is hope.

There is hope in my friends and co-workers and classmates and family members who work day in and day out to educate themselves and make positive change.

There is hope in my students, who will be our future.

There is hope in the sacrifice and love and attempts and simply wanting to be better.

So yes, I sit here and I cry. I cry for the human race, for the people who reside within the borders of the country, for the huge divide. I question when (not if, never if) I will see a woman who reflects all I stand for in the White House, when will I see someone who represents a religious minority, a member of the Latin@ community, a member of the LBGTQ+ community? When will representation reflect the diversity of our population? When will we heal our Earth? When will pay be equal? When will masss incarnation end? When will differences bond not divide? So many wonderings. 

When will justice come? I question and doubt but I also know-

This is not over. We have only just begun. There is hope.