Fanned down flags still flutter in the breeze, ripped and cut at the edges. I’m holding up my white flag. I surrender to my own voice. I surrender to my own perceptions. I surrender to justice and dignity. Will I surrender to the further atrocities that we are made to believe, and consume ourselves into? I won’t. I just want to be honest–selfhood is all we have. Mine has seen battles of anxiety and grief, but my flag still sways in the wind, only surrendering to me. As long as I’m holding mine wildly in the air, I know I’m still standing with my own voice, and more importantly, justice.