A poem for my sister.

Maybe it was the lack of care when I felt the world was falling apart.

Maybe it was forgetting my kids and watching you break their hearts.

Maybe it was the treatment of the man that I adore.

Maybe it was the fact that for fascists you held the door.

A fracture doesn't always happen in a single moment.

Sometimes those fractures are made through time when complacency meets the limit.

Right now I don't know if I have a capacity to pull myself through the rubble.

What I do know is that right now, I have to create a bubble.

We stand on opposite sides of a burning bridge.

Each asking what to do to fill the gap of a massive ridge.

You keep doing what you feel is right.

I'll keep doing what I've always done, keeping you in sight.

At this point, it's a matter of privacy, security, and wellness

Or maybe it is just a matter of illness.

Looking through the pages of history is what keeps me going,

But right now in those pages my spirit is stirring.

You may never understand or know what weight is being carried,

But know that when the dam breaks,

the story will be ferried.

Some hold truth, some hold tales, some just what to hold themselves.

We are in unknown times ahead.

And sometimes things are better off left unsaid.