Re-reading Rankine. Re-reading Baldwin.

Clinging to sentences for dear life.

Dear, life.

Dear life.

We keep going.

Attribution

/

To be left, not alone, the only wish— 

to call you out, to call out you.


Who shouted, you? You

shouted you, you the murmur in the air, you sometimes
sounding like you, you sometimes saying you,

go nowhere,

be no one but you first—

Nobody notices, only you've known,

you're not sick, not crazy,
not angry, not sad—

It's just this, you're injured.

/

— from Some years there exists a wanting to escape… in Citizen by Claudia Rankine