The sky has fallen, has been falling, and power still respects no reason other than what serves to sustain it.
You have felt this threat with the unease that proceeds earthquakes and the violence of storms. Sometimes you felt hysterical. You were not. Sometimes you felt safe. You were not.
It started the first time greed claimed dominion in someone else’s home, the first time we/they took someone’s liberty and called them property, the first time we/they used a document to justify tyranny. It’s in the audacity of whiteness and its certainty of supremacy. It’s power assuring its perseverance.
The ancient thing inside you doesn’t know how the definition of a word becomes a threat to your body, but its palm itches for the weapon that can protect you. It understands the danger to your safety. It knows that people will die and the ones with the least shelter will be first.
You move between bouts of rage, fear, and the semi-disassociated state required to show up for the mundanities that comprise a day. You don’t know where you put your keys. Make a cup of tea. You don’t know what else to do.