Don't tell me I can't cry
because I care.
Don't tell me I can't cry
because America has told the world,
has told our children,
that a hardworking, courageous, brilliant woman
can be beaten by the lazy class bully
who doesn't know how to keep his hands to himself.
Don't tell me I can't cry
because the day the glass ceiling
should have shattered,
instead, a bulletproof layer was built
and all the cracks we worked so hard to make
were resealed with words of hate.
Don't tell me I can't cry
when my entire family has been crushed,
the people I love most brought to the ground
because we fought like hell and still lost,
because this is Her story
but it's ours, too.
But don't tell me I can't have hope,
I can't matter,
I can't speak up,
I can't keep pounding at the ceilings and the walls
because sometimes we need to be angry
in order to fight.
Sometimes we need to cry
in order to see clearly
and goddammit, right now we all need 20/20
to see how the world fell apart
and how we can rebuild it.
So don't tell me I can't cry
because I care.
And don't even try to tell me
that I can't care.
Because if you don't
it's because you won't be affected,
because the cards have been stacked in your favor
for so long that one reshuffling won't matter
and you don't love anyone
who's been dealt the wrong hand,
either that, or you're just stupid.
But I'm not.
I don't know how to act
but I know that I have to
and I know that I can.
So unless you know that, too,
do not tell me that I can't cry
because I will anyway.
