hug your hurt

walking into a wake
the smell of mixed florals
reminds me of stomach acid that stirred
seeing my grandmother
stiff and sewn.
i was six
and afraid to step near the casket.

i'm no longer six
but i still don't care for coffins.

loss is brutal, painful, numbing.
it's a wasp stinging your heart
and 
novocain for every living layer within you.
it destroys digestion
and the desire to desire.
it's for worms and only worms.

when i lost my parents,
i lost all empathy for liars.
when you encounter good grief,
the truth surfaces and glows neon
and everything else is a vivid waste of time.

orphaned at 36 isn't a disaster,
but it still makes me sad.
the sadness swells when i see a new orphan
and recall how disgusting it is to understand that level of alone.

i want to hug your hurt so hard,
and maybe need you to hug my hurt too.

my toenails, my america

if this were all equal
my toenails would be prettier.
or painted.

if we were all made equal,
there would be more women with thinner lips or fuller lips.
more short, bald men or more thick haired tall men.

if we were all equal,
my father would never have called gay men 'sodomites'
and he would have talked to me about finding the right man or woman.
because if we are all equal,
both are equally possible.
he would never have called ellen, ellen degenerate.

if we're all equal, all my sisters would have pursued their education
with the same vigor they pursued dating.
they wouldn't stay a day with an abusive husband.
in fact, they would never have given that guy a chance.

maybe abusive men wouldn't exist if we were all equal?

if there was real equality,
my neighbors wouldn't need to sell drugs
and wouldn't throw garbage in the street.
we wouldn't have to drive a half-hour to find a Whole Foods
and dollar stores wouldn't decorate every corner.

if things were really equal,
my niece would have had the same number of fans at her volleyball championship
that my nephew had at his soccer tournament.

if we were all equal,
there would have been a Jewish president,
a black president,
a woman president
way before 2008.
we started presidenting in 1788.
that's 220 years of white men leading.

if we are all equal,
i wouldn't be afraid to hold my partner's hand in public
and her father
and her father
and her father wouldn't worry about his little girl being judged or harmed for who she loves.

who am i kidding?

we are a nation built on a notion of equality for all. 
yet in 2016, we are invading the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe,
again
(this time with an oil pipeline.)
we are shutting down planned parenthood
giving Brock Turner an early release
and letting a racist run for presidency.
we are killing black men and black boys and defending the right to do so.
we are serving our children sugar for lunch,
and calling ketchup a vegetable.

i am staring at my toenails painfully aware they will never be beautiful.
but i trim them.
i tend the cuticles,
and i clean them.

i take care of my toenails
and i vote.
somehow, it feels a bit the same.