Desensitized, numb—words to describe
my mood. Maybe something is wrong with me? . .
I scroll past the bad in the news.
What’s the point if the bad is always Black and Blue?
I rather protect my sanity
and my peace. “These crackers will not break me!”
Fuck! I didn’t mean to say that but fuck it.
I’m tired of apologizing.
I’m tired of only surviving.
There seems to be no light at the end.
This tunnel is dark; it is not my friend.
“If rest and justice isn’t on the menu,
hold it. How long do I have to wait?”
“Four hundred plus years.” That is too late. . .