they say we're hoarders of harm,  
harborers of burdens,  
as if every beaten breath we push  
out of our chests  

poisons  

the rooms we walk through and among...

...but i know  
we hold more than:

these callous judgments cast upon us  
by those unfortunate enough to never  
feel fully  
the expanse of medicinal love that flows  
between our collective loneliness.  

they haven’t seen  
the blind forgiveness we bandage our wounds with.  

they haven’t tasted  
the words of tolerance that trace our teeth:  
	
    faced with threatening assumptions  
        mistranslations that challenge the  
            careful peace we craft within our skin.  

they call us dirty despite rejecting our shine.  
...but i know  

we are more than:  

the strings of addiction loosely laid  
around our necks, forever reminding us  
of the possible pull  
that will have us hovering  
should we ever forget what  

we are:  

hoarders of hope  
hope dealers