I have been sprinting.
The proverbial shirt on my back is
Drenched. The very real lungs in my body
Are waiting to exhale. I want this. I know it.
I do not feel guilty anymore. I just practice
Waiting on nothing long enough to see my self leave.
There will be no apologies. This is all that I carry. This
Weight. This apple seed. This godsend. This
Holy multiplier. God calls me many things.
Tells me to believe. Tells me not to get
Too wrapped up but I am surrounded
By horizons that can't let go of me
Shining. And why should I stop now?
Who is making the rules in this country?
Who has broken the rules in this country
And survived?
Copyright © 2025 by Jewel Rodgers. Reprinted by permission of the poet.