a melody of sameness drains me of color leaves me as an outlining a charcoal line smudged on my sheets
and the tv is full volume, cause my neighbor is on full volume, cause his neighbor is on full volume
red faced people are yelling at each other they are furious for so many reasons and i don't feel a whole lot
it's monday, or tuesday, and so on - life humming in my ear the red faced are cut off by breaking news, by massive destruction and devastation human suffering and i don't feel a whole lot
my neighbor bangs his fist on my wall, cause his neighbor is banging on his, and i don't know what day it is
there are bombs, rockets blaring through the night. many casualties they say. mostly women and children i don't know the women, the children, i don't know my neighbor or my neighbors neighbor the red faced are back on, gesturing and blaming i don't feel a whole lot
i boil rice, cause i know how to do it, and children get their legs blown off, and women are decapitated i'm just a crooked charcoal silhouette on my kitchen wall cook for fifteen minutes over low flame until water has evaporated or rice is soft
**** and kidnappings and slow death. can someone tell me what day it is?