TW: privilege, grief, genocide

Photo by Mohammed Ibrahim

I wish not to distract
myself with frivolous
nor mundane occurrences

But I pray for a reprieve
from the violence of man:

The mother clinging
to her child’s
lifeless body

The brother calling
for his sister
through the rubble
of their father’s
home

I must bear witness
to the deeds of man

Bystander.
Onlooker.

A helplessness
claims me,
unable to stop the bullets
or the bombs
with my fickle anger

The terror is close.

I hear the screams,
I do

Children weep
while I lay around or

clean my house
walk my dog
kiss my husband goodnight.