the vibration

Maybe this vibration we feel isn’t the

powering up of the powerful but the

gathering up of the gatekept.

History tells us

over and over again

that if you dehumanize and denigrate long enough,

the rejected will lift up their once-hung heads,

the anxious will open their once-wrung hands,

the unheard will sing their once-silenced songs and

find that a strength has been built up

while bearing the weight of their pain.

Maybe this vibration is just a hum of air—

the “pssss” of power leaking from an oppressor.

The panic to plug the hole.

They’re doubling down,

Pulling privilege close,

Guarding platforms they’ve built,

Protecting themselves with a cloud of bravado that

reeks of fear—

Fear of losing their top rung.

Fear of sharing opportunity.

Fear of a level playing field.

Fear that more for others means less for them.

Fear that their inner critic has always been right:

They aren’t good enough.

So much fear they made

curse words out of virtues:

Diversity. Equity. Inclusion. Empathy.

They need words that make them feel powerful, not meek.

Superior, not equal.

And if they can’t hold their boot to someone’s neck

Their hatred will have nowhere to go but within.

Maybe this vibration is just the buzz of

atrophied muscles bulging through worn out clothes,

inhales and exhales syncing as we realize we are actually one huge body.

Maybe this charge in the air is just what it feels like before a reckoning.