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When the white man
hears accusations of "privilege...
If only I could have saved her.
If only I could have known her name...
We plant flowers in our chests
and bloom epiphanies...
I see you, mother,
dipping out from the shadows...
I am the dust here;
I cannot carry your...
"Ready for warfare?", my mind antagonizes.
"I wasn't created for battlefields", my heart insists.
My heart is sick with grenades.
Sometimes you have to work on protecting yourself more than your desire to protect others.
by c. a. williams
by Courageous Dreamer