Of What we are Made of

There has never been a more logical time for me as a person to speak to my being. To explain to me that it is okay to be desire more. 

2020 started off with bountiful projections into what I am to become. I mean, I just had a baby three months back and I was ready to launch myself back into the world. 

Then, it all happened. The world had to close its doors while quietly hoping, praying, and experimenting with new ideas that this horror we all are collectively experiencing will fade away.

Fear loomed. 

People died.

Everyone was soaked in anxiety, quietly thinking; who's next?

Then,

November crept in with blood under her soles. October had been bloody September moaned in tears. 

The blood of the innocent dripped off the cup of police brutality. 

November trembles, wondering what's to become of her. 

About to close her doors, I pulled her back in.

I whispered to her, 'we are made to overcome.'