”And when great souls die, after a period peace blooms, slowly and always irregularly. Spaces fill with a kind of soothing electric vibration. Our senses, restored, never to be the same, whisper to us. They existed. They existed. We can be. Be and be better.
For they existed.”
~
Maya Angelou
One of the first lessons I learned about fire safety and burning buildings was not to call the fire department while you were still inside said burning building. This may seem fairly obvious but when your brain is being flooded with adrenaline you don't always think straight. So, after the 911 operator yelled "GET OUT!", I did.
The blood runs thin
In the dark settings
the dangerous regions
where the ragged people
attempt to assemble themselves
people building meaningful identities
unwanted anywhere uptown
And when the blood spills
into the bleek gutters and rickety dwellings
those identities are so often
then erased
stolen in the night
discarded
just like the bodies of the people
who strove to own them
On this day we remember those lost souls. We remember their names, and try to summon memories of those who chose them.
