I don’t know what to say and
I don’t know what to do except
I know to say and do nothing feels
Almost as wrong as forcing women
To become mothers and babies
To enter this cruel, cold country
I know how it feels to be told “I love you”
By the same lips that say
My marriage is meaningless.
To receive letters written with words
Like “son” and “brother” and “family”
By hands that hold ballot box daggers
To witness the silent stone riot
Of those who love and watch still
Pleas to hold my husband in death.
I know not to expect a syllable’s dissent
When his hand is ripped away.
A word is a rock as much as a seed
I won’t tell you “I love you” and watch
In stealth contempt for your body
In twisted curiosity for future sufferings
Your womb — quarantined to breed lonely
I won’t tell you “I love you”
Because I won’t.
Because I know the value of quiet love
Looped like a record and noose
Drew Pinkley 
It is a truly sad era in our nation’s history Drew. I would never have thought we’d be taking steps backwards, but here we are. All I can say is people need to get out and vote in the midterms and the big election this fall. They also need to start paying attention to the businesses that are getting their money. I’ve already stopped doing business with three companies due to their donation history.
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