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. . .