This Is Our Story...

This is The Narrator.

This is our watermark, and our Tell.
This is the twitch on our upper lip, when we're holding a straight.

This is our runway, and these are the landing lights guiding Good Fortune in.
Stay awhile, Fortune. fill our sails and bellies, and our pockets. Bring us Hope in a Sunless Land. Our crops wither, our pens are empty, our babies need milk.
and we haven't eaten in days.

This is our Shelter.
This is our Keep.
This is the Wall. The Warm stays In, and the Cold stays out. At least, it was supposed to be that way. We pose for wedding pictures, not planning on layoffs. If we knew Then what we know Now, we might've saved more cake. I didn't know I'd hear my Wife crying because we had to choose between the lights or the phone. She wanted a castle, and I'm damn sorry I couldn't give her one. And later, she'll hold me while we're naked, whispering "Baby, it's okay. We'll be alright." And we will. Because She said so, and because I believe her. I go to work for some jackhole, who won't offer my kids Health care, and I have to cut my hours because our work keeps going to somebody in China. And we're feeding people in Africa who don't get the concept that nothinggrowsinsandyouguysreallyoughtomove
stopfuckingstopkillingwhyarewekeepingyoualivewhenallyoudois
stopmakingmoreofyouthere'stoomanyofyoujuststopfuckstopfuck

just. stop.

This is the Calm.
This is the Eye of the Hurricane.
This is the breath you exhale before you pull back the trigger on your
30.0.06. This is that space between heartbeats. This is where I hear my blood
rushing through my veins. I catch the scent, and I move on all fours with the grace of an Angel.

This is my Knife.
This is my Promise that my babies won't eat the garbage I had to.
This is My Word. This thing won't Lie.
It will do as I ask.
I can trust it.

This is my Heart.
This is the Blood it pumps. In this blood you'll find My Ancestors, My Father, My Mother, My Children. This is the pool you'll find at the feet of a Banker. A Sheriff holding a smoking gun, delivers a Notice Of Eviction to a new widow, baby still in the bassinet.

This was My Life.

This is Our Story.