Rise, Rise

​How do you fix a body

that tears itself asunder 

from the inside?

How do you mend a wound

when the disparate jags of skin 

will not communicate? 

Should we shrug

and leave this wound to fester

can we truly say that we have overcome?

If union is required to stand,

but we fear the hand of our brother,

how is it that we will ever rise?

If our sister is abhorrent to our sight,

if her name is anathema to our tongue,

how is it that we,

champions of progress, 

can ever hope to move forward?

Rise, rise.

Together, rise.

And hand in hand,

devour your oppressors,

all teeth gnashing 

in gruesome unison.


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