Cycle

Things feel terrifying lately—for me, for the country I still want to love. I was raised to believe in the promise of this place, that if we cared for one another, a mix of colors and voices could make us stronger. 

But when I look around now, all I see is rot—racism, sexism, Christian Nationalism, hatred from anyone who fears the mirror. 

I don't want to be the kind of person who whispers about conspiracies, but history hums beneath my skin. I've read about pre-World War II Germany—how fear and hate were fed to the masses until they mistook it for pride.

And I see the same hunger growing here. It makes me sick—that hearts can still be twisted so easily that the lesson of blood and ash meant nothing in the end. 

Maybe we never evolve. Maybe we just circle—again and again—each generation handing down its own polished version of hate.