How to stay alive

I say: take up space

I say: sew speaker box to tongue to amplify, to amplify

I say: just keep waking each day

I say: breathe

I say: keep breathing

I say: the best way to show them your power is to stay informed

I say: make music with your anger

I say: write poems that stir

I say: do not wait for storms to surge your rainbow into the sky

I say: no one belongs here more than you.

Sometimes, I forget how to breathe, so I spend an entire day writing letters to my lungs with hope their address has not changed. This is difficult. To walk is to admit I am still here—which I am—and I (think I) need to be—but the sirens, but the armor, but the bullets, but the disappearances. I am trying. I am holding onto the others and we are stitching quilts with our fear. This is going to warm us. This is going to remind us we are many. This is going to need more thread.