b.r.u.t.a.l

Out of the blue came the placard posts.
They stated we do not belong, but we do.
And they weren't blue.
Stumbling and bumbling past each stern-faced critic,
there was no turning back. The only route was to
embrace the rush, own the movement, and love the
consequences. It was the rush of revolution. It
was the force of starting to believe in the
usascertained. It was a parade of parades balanced on
top each parade beneath it until the heaving force
was simply a revolution in thought. Giggles against
grimaces, strength against compromise, love against hate.
It wasn't until the finish line appeared
just as the starting line began that it became clear
we all marched for our own revolution.
Against those next to us, those staring at us, and those
utterly unaware of our fight. Mostly though,
we marched against ourselves. And with ourselves in a
battle of what is, what was, and what we only imagine will
inevitably be.