I saw a post today where someone was talking about how their memories of RBG were stolen and replaced by fear, by those who would destroy our country. I found it a poetic post, but my partner’s response was, “But they want us afraid.” So I began thinking about it, and I realized that after my fear, like someone grieving, my feelings shifted to anger and motion.
And so I did what I always do, I wrote…a poem this time. May your memories be a resistance, RBG.
The Letter U
by Raven Oak, 9/18/2020
Too many posts consist of one word: THIS.
Or maybe just: So much THIS.
But I have more to say than simply THIS.
I am afraid,
But my fear is followed by anger.
A raging fire that consumes me and reminds me of the flame that burns within all those who fight.
In another life, I would’ve been a rebel fighter.
I would’ve been brave enough to fight for equality and equity and love in ways my disabled self can only dream about now.
But I am not without.
No, I am enough.
I may not have the physical strength of Wonder Woman or Captain America,
But I have the will of the flames,
And I have the stinging words of a writer.
I will rebuild this country one letter at a time, starting with U.
If U voted for those that would destroy the land and salt it with black and brown bodies, and the screams of women,
U are guilty.
U have been complacent,
And we are coming for U.
And we are not forgiving.
