Tension in my jaw, constricted cheeks, pursed lips and throat lumps. Of all the stifled sobs in bathroom stalls, all the microaggressions I smiled through gritted teeth, all the objections I swallowed, protests squashed in favor of maintaining a passionless peace of fake progress. Surface diversity, imagined inclusion.
This is a poem:
Tension in my jaw, constricted cheeks, pursed lips and throat lumps. Of all the stifled sobs in bathroom stalls, all the microaggressions I smiled through gritted teeth, all the objections I swallowed, protests squashed in favor of maintaining a passionless peace of fake progress. Surface diversity, imagined inclusion.
wow!! yes, poetry is my first language. it seeps through but maybe it should have its own life?
Yes, please!
💗💗💗
🙏🏽🙌🏽 yes. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you for reading 🫶🏾