This Is the Line We didn’t come to be polite. We came because the ground was shaking, because they were burning books again, because a kid bled out in a school bathroom, and someone said, “That’s just the way things are.” We are not the ones who start wars. But we’ve learned to walk through fire. We’ve learned how to stand in the smoke We’ve learned to keep breathing when you wanted us gone. You want tidy? You want gentle hands folding flags into triangles? You want silence, so you can sleep? We are not lullabies. We are the drag queens reading stories while protestors spit outside the glass. We are the loud kids in the back of the class asking the questions that twist your face. We are the brick through the window when justice won’t open the door. You don’t get to ask us to calm down. The house is still on fire. The laws are knives. The sermons still say shrink or die. Some of us did. And we carry them with us. Their names are not forgotten. Their joy will not be erased. This is not poetry for your approval. This is a pulse. This is boots on pavement. This is a flag that never fit on your pole. This is a song with no chorus, just rage and breath and marching feet. This is the line. You will not cross it. Not without reckoning. We’ve buried our fear. Now we bury your reign. #PrideIsProtest #FightFascism #lgbtqiaplus #WeWillNotBeErased #StonewallLives #Poetry #Resistance