I took my flag to church…with chimes ringing at noon.
I took my flag to church for healing.
I placed my
red…for the color of my skin
blue…for my mother’s sadness
white…for cleansing my weak mind
upon a ancient altar.
I waited for condolense from a religion I did not choose.
I brought my own incense
my native tongue.
I placed, delicately, the love and duct tape I had been born with.
I laid out the only tools I knew how to use.
I found no tranquility among the brick and mortar confines.
I found my soul crying out for her own mind.
Wrapping my flag about me…I stammered out…wearing a rainbow of colors …I refused to become blind.
