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A prayer to my mirror
To the man with the black hair and dark mean skin
you told me that after your children learned their ABC’s
they were taught how to pray for people like me.
To sit at the edge of their bed
look up at the stars and hope we regain our sanity.
But you might as well pray to a mirror
because I do the same.
I ask that heavenly being that is said to look over us
I ask God to find you
to find you in the forest and bring you back to my world:
a world of equality.
To the man with a big sign
beating down my self-confidence by the second:
Do not bring your child into a world of animosity
where they are only shown one side.
Tell your son that the words he is saying
are tying a knot from the ceiling of a bedroom.
Tell him that those words are stuffing excess amounts of Norco down teenager’s throats
And let him know that the only reason his words are true is because he made them so.
To the anonymous woman sitting at her dining table
the grease dripping off that dead animal and onto your sacred bible
Tell me to my face that you abide by all the laws of christianity.
Look into my eyes and say that tomorrow,
you will go down to the black market and sell your daughter into slavery.
That you follow the laws shown by Jesus
who promised and preached love.
Because anonymous woman,
I think we both know the truth:
That you are no more open-minded than a horse with blinders.
That you follow what you want and disregard everything else.
Heart beating fast;
your hands the clammiest that they’ll ever be
tell me that you only eat “holy bacon.”
To the secret ally who thought that they could call their church home
until they learned the difference between expression and oppression.
This Sunday, go to church and pray; and sing.
But this time secret ally,
preach a different prayer and sing a different song.
Sit in that pew with your hands clasped and your eyes closed
and pray that everyone sitting around you is found.
That your mother is no longer afraid of people like us
and that your father removes the word f**got from his vocabulary
And that someday
you will realize
you don’t have to be secret anymore
To the secret ally who wants to start a GSA in their school.
I dare you to see the pleading in Jesus’ eyes not because he is dying,
but because his message has been obscured.
I dare you to break down every wall of enclosure that anyone has ever put in your way.
And secret ally I dare you
to tell those people at your church...
to do the same
because secret ally I can’t tell you exactly how long we will last
In a world where hatred is hidden in plain sight behind every alleyway;
But I can tell you this:
It won’t be long