Tagged: guilt

there are moments when

there are moments when
i feel sick thinking about
it – what to do, what

to say, where to put my feet,
my hands, opened or closed, my heart


an ear against your

an ear against your
chest and images from
tonight’s viewing of
the latest Underworld
in the franchise
beneath my eyelids, i
am once again
wondering whose
heart will stop
beating first, and
would the one that
continues alone be okay
with succumbing to
such guilty pleasures

we don’t go out of

we don’t go out of
our way to not have
black friends
you said.
i got out of bed this
morning and pulled on
the white narcissism
as white guilt
robe, not
making me any less
yellow. i am going through
photos from last night’s
mardi gras party and
commenting on the
homogeneity. from just
inside of the outside
looking in, are we
simply cleared of
racism by showing up
for all the protests while
toasting to our own?
as a card-carrying
the lines blur while
the gears in the well-
established system turn

let us not forget

let us not forget
this feeling, even when we
have not quite
identified it – a gelatinous
persuasion of guilt
if you do and
guilt if you don’t –
stuck treading
words that have been
said, flutter kicking
into words that have
been left unsaid

there is nothing like

be guilty –

be guilty
we have all
raised our go-to
verses like gold,
toasting to good
fellowship and
words that never
come undone