Tethered

I feel tethered to the womb

of Mother Earth,

and she is hurting.

Her cries come in firestorms and floods,

in the silent hunger of children,

in the slow, choking breath of the seas.

Every gunshot, every boot on a neck,

every smug, smiling face

that signs the orders

makes me want to vomit

and claw my way

throught the halls of power.

I am sick with it.

sick of the men who trade

lives for profit.

Sick of the cowards who

watch in silence.

Sick of the endless lies,

the violence

the goddamn rot at the

root of it all.

I want to scream until my lungs give out,

fight until the glass shatters,

and burn every gilded

throne

they’ve built from hones.