I wake up to headlines
that feel like obituaries
for freedoms we thought were ours.
Another law passed,
another right buried,
another name erased from history
before they even had a chance to be written in.
They are trying to unmake us.
To strip the color from our flags,
to silence the voices that rise
like a hymn for something better.
They want a world that is smaller,
simpler,
straighter.
One where power is a locked door
and only they have the key.
But we were never meant to be quiet.
Not when our bodies carry the stories
of those who fought before us,
not when our voices are the last thing
they can take away,
not when we have each other.
They want us divided—
because unity is a wildfire,
because solidarity is the kind of rebellion
they can’t legislate away.
So, we gather.
In the streets,
in the courts,
at kitchen tables and candlelit vigils,
holding hands like protest signs,
lifting our voices like shields.
We are louder than their fear.
We are stronger than their erasure.
We are the resistance,
and we are not afraid to be seen.
Let them try to unmake us—
we will build ourselves back,
again and again,
until there is nothing left for them to take.
Until the only thing they have to face
is the power
of we, the people.
