and controversy,
ghost stories
and monuments
of a time long gone.
But you will not let go.
You hold the past
with an iron fist
dug into the ground,
anchoring us
to a sinking ship
no matter how hard
we try to swim,
we know what's going down.
We struggle
against hurricanes
and heartache,
rebel flags
and white rage,
sins of the past
and present mistakes.
It just never ends.
I escaped.
I moved away.
I found somewhere
I could breathe again,
where the humidity
didn't win
every time
I walked out the door,
where memories
didn't surface
every time
or any place I drove.
Then I came home.
And the only change
I see
is me.
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