stop, thief!

you can’t steal the way I f@cking felt when I got up today!*

My beautiful day is not your beautiful day, I guess.
My beautiful day began with peppermint tea, bowls of coffee, impromptu trip into the city my family of four.
My beautiful day was sunshine blue sky cloud wisps and feelin’ free, soup dumplings scallion pancake jokes at Joe’s Ginger lichee black tea, tourists on tours and pork buns times two.
My beautiful day was a march Foley Square for abortion rights freedom for Iranian women and girls for housing justice for radical acceptance green bandanas.
My beautiful detour to the African American Burial Ground daughters invited by Miss Vicky to make wire framed African dolls fabric yarn cloth beads shells beautiful day.
Meanwhile sacred burial mounds drums vibrate joy horns blaring and feet moving powerless to rhythm.
Meanwhile my daughter proudly holds protest sign proudly the only one across the Brooklyn Bridge people stopping to high five yes, girl YES IT IS (a human right!) and her beaming just beaming, asking will Krissy be proud of me?
Meanwhile walking down our streets, meanwhile I hear a man’s voice asking my proud beaming daughter “Do you like killing babies” and I step in front of her, attempt to block his stream of words and I do not tear out his throat when his wife asks my daughters “why did you mom not kill you too!?” My husband whisks us away walks us down the street thank god I shout HAVE A GREAT DAY after these monsters I wish them a great rest of their day in a weird voice that everyone understands is the voice of a woman who has decided not to —
I shake vibrate clatter inside my heart my breath quick how dare you.
I buy two frozen pizzas and two boxes of ice cream cones for the kids for later for my beautiful night.
My beautiful day is still sunshine and family and freedom but now also harm and and and frozen pizza leftover crusts these things you cannot take from me.

*I love you, Le Tigre.