PRESS.
Althea René Miller
March 3, 2018

They bury us beneath structures and precedent
Citing what can never be
Because of what has always been
so we
Grab the earth
and root ourselves
In the triumph of our ancestors
In an unwillingness to be suppressed
And break through.
We,
press.
Yes, they buried us and didn’t know
We were seeds with
the audacity to stretch and grow and wrap our vines 'round and 'round
Resistin' and
Clappin' back and
Calculating trajectories their minds can't fathom, claiming
victory in battles they didn’t think could be won
We, press.
We press for progress
We press forward
We press on
We press through
And when we are pressed we push back
Strength?
We got it.
But
We misdefine it, thinking
that dry eyes
Are indicative of a strong character.
That healing
is only for the weak
Are our spines rigid?
Do they not ripple?
undulating with the Earth's tides
this world don’t know nothing
bout mercy
don’t know nothin’ bout kindness
don’t have enough patience to
hold off on trouble ‘til we think we can handle it
And still
this world
ain’t broke us yet

This world
ain’t
broke
you
yet

Strength is not determined by dry eyes
By not allowing yourself to feel
But by your willingness to stand
under the weight of your circumstance.
And press.
Your tears are testaments to your
triumph
You
are stronger than you think
More beautiful
than mirrors reveal
And if tears
are the worst of your troubles
after rising from the ashes
of the hell that you survived,
Cry!
Scream!
Yell!
Breathe.
Rest.
...Because you made it.
You
are making it.
You
will make it!
Cry!
Scream!
Yell!
Breathe.
Rest.
and when you are done.

Press.