The Women March Again, Thank God

I can choose anger,

fear, hate.

I can choose love.

It’s not complicated.

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My scars inform me 

I’m stronger than what tried to 

break me. No stigma.

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I was not appointed to

judge smart phone usage.

Do what pleases you.

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I write my seventeen’s,

unless I have no time.

Then I write long poems.

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I pause throughout the

day, become still, look within.

How funny I am.

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I won’t surrender 

my peace, not even to those

I can not control.