America, You’re beautiful

America, You’re cruel

You gave me everything I have now,

But you’ve taken from me too

My family, my history

You handed them the guns,

You told them for the Glory,

Of ever-lasting Sons,

The daughters just a note,

Of who they married too,

Yet the generations of

Wealth, Health, & Prosperity

Was a lie so sweet and rotten

It was stolen from the People

We sent to their graves and

Grown from the labor

Of those we stole from their homes

Those promises were Lies you never meant to keep

You feed me morsels of what ‘Could Be’

If only I tried,

Harder, Worked Longer, and Just Believe

How stupid I look, to those who know the truth

Because Turtle Island was never my place to thrive,

Yet somehow, I still love you,

But I hate your lies.

You told me what I wanted to believe,

That I was from a line of Heros

Who fought while risking lives

For Freedom! For Liberty!

That we were unafraid to be bold,

Be new and overcome all hardships.

Now I look around and realize,

In the truth of these stories,

They were never about me,

They are only half way over,

And I am just a solider,

For the enemy, the bad guy, the oppressor,

I see my role is cast, a no name pawn

In the great Lie you sold me,

The Fable of History you told me,

Meant to Perpetuate this atrocity,

Because It’s made enough to suit me

Yet I look around and see,

That while my cage is wide, and gilded,

I have no real idea of what it means to be

Truly Free

And the only ones who can teach me

Are who lost theirs so completely,

Thanks to my family tree

So America, you tried, its true

But you only tried enough for you

If I am stuck in this role you gave me,

A villain, then my only freedom

Is choosing who I will be an enemy too,

I think you should know,

America, I want to break up with you

I will not hold back for you,

Those who you hurt and oppressed,

You will hate me for it,

I never was meant to be the hero,

But I won’t ever be what you expect.

The first thing to pop into my mind with the word 'equality', is an almost clip-art-esque picture of an old fashion scale, like the one Lady Justice holds. Quickly after, what rushes in, is snippets of stories, news, people, and protests, fighting for it, and myself feeling a sense of agreement with that. Now when my thoughts turn slowly to the next hazy inscription my too-crowded mind presents, a banal solution appears as weighing out the scales to be level. Now those at the bottom, want to rise up, but suddenly they must stop at a never agreed upon level of what 'is fair', and those at top feel nothing but loss though they have more than enough to let go off and still be at that idea of 'fair'. So we often get caught up in making the 'logistics' of equality, in a wicked seesaw that we're terrified to hold onto or let go of. As an American, I grew up being taught that equality simply means equal, but life quickly taught me that we are trying to come up with a number that is equal to Pi. Pi being infinite, has no comparison. Each person, can come up with any combination of numbers, and somewhere, within Pi, it exists. So each persons answer to equality, as their number sequence to Pi, is both true and not true, it can't contain all of Pi and yet... It is true to them, their experience, their existence, and that is irrevocable. However, it cannot stain the truth of someone elses number sequence of existence. I see when I think of inequality, in terms of this horrible math concept I'm sure I can't even explain well enough if asked, that its the people who insist that Pi doesn't exist, or only their own sequence to be the truth and all answers can only be true if they line up with that one particular sequence, who create this inequality, and they are willing to violently force the world to fit this tiny, molecule level of understanding of truth. So when I try to weigh the scales, against their small truth, it never comes out fair for all, because I can't come up with an answer that fits all. My own truth, my sequence, is what feels right to me, above all else, but not above influence, but the number of my heart always beats the same. I do see though, my truth, in small parts, in other people. That's when my heart and soul sing out, 'Yes! This, this is exactly what I know to be true, sure as I feel the breath in my chest and the taste of dry weed smoke in my mouth and it tells me that I'm smoking, this part I see in you, is true for me too.' It lets me learn about myself, through others, but to accept that small part of the truth I see, I have to accept, and cherish them for the truths they hold, that are unseeable, unfeelable, for someone like me. It's those moments, where I feel seen, as a soul, as the innocent child, as the full grown woman, as just a few random thoughts, I feel for a small moment, that I am not alone in this world and quite comfortable with it. And for that, I love you, all of you, the parts I do and don't understand. And I want your truth, to be able to be loud, proud and unashamed, next to mine, though they don't match all the way, I smile, heart free, my head light and my eyes bright, reflecting our light without dimming the other. Equality, is existing in our truths, together, unfettered, unphased, and unmatched, and knowing that both of us are seen.