this is the new year
i resolve to lose thirty pounds to better my body;
read books from my local library, for my mind and community.
are these empty resolutions parading as good intentions?
this is the new year
i haven’t been this excited since nineteen rolled into the twenties; i am cautiously optimistic.
take it all in. we will never be the same
this is the new year
stocks and healthcare and grocery bills keep rising, but every trip a little less to carry into the house; i miss eating meat and feeling like i made choices, not concessions.
taxes due soon; funding [REDACTED] and projects for the greater good of the few in penthouses & boardrooms
this is the new year
work a little harder. yes ma’am, yes sir. take it. all of it with no regard.
recycle. save the fucking planet. make a difference.
this is the new year
i am not beholden to billionaires.
where is my american dream? went to school. collected degrees. found my forever person. twice. i have forever people. i am blessed; some don’t get one. collectively decided against offspring; can only stomach locked and loaded death sentences. bought the house, skipped the fence. no need to lock doors. you are always welcome here.
this is the new year
i am a single voice among 347,275,804. am i the exception or a statistic?
this is the new year
i look the part, but i am not part of the royal we; I am the other. no invite to the dinner table. i am hungry; i am not alone. peace be with you.
this is the new year.
347,275,803 now and counting. one of us. i didn’t vote for this. neither did you
this is the new year
my autism doesn’t speak; it fucking screams. we need to lock the door.
this is the new year
i look the part, but no one is safe. i’m on a list too. not this round, but maybe the next.
I don’t know. no one does.
who is knocking?
this is the new year
Steve Maitlen resides in indiana.
