Sitting in the graveyard
I ask my great grandmother
For a sign
That everything will be ok.

When I try to leave,
My car won’t start.

She always was a bitch.

I don’t believe in coincidences anymore.

I don’t believe
That existence is a random fluke,
But quite the opposite –
A carefully synchronized
Symphony of chaos,

The moments I live now
Scripted by the footsteps
Of great grandmothers
Who never took shit
From anybody.

September 2, 2019

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