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My Scottish ancestors Fought for freedom. My British ancestors carried on Wanting to be right. When I need to rally My strength— Believe in myself, And be strong, Scottish voices within me Call me to fight. But my British lineage holds fast— Intellectualizing right from wrong. Somewhere along the way, I got all twisted up— Fighting an internal war. Colonizing myself. Holding the battle In my own flesh. We are so much easier to control When we imprison ourselves.
I’m done suppressing myself.
Too tired to keep fighting.
The walls of tension
My body built to survive
Have fallen.
I am letting go.
Relieved the war is over—
Still grieving heavy casualties.
The emptiness is terrifying
And also full of possibility.
Maybe if we each do the
Inside work of freeing ourselves,
External peace
Could finally have a chance.
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