Picture a human
seated at a table
in the background
news plays on a tv
you know the stories
I cannot watch
I cry (sometimes in happiness)
all these loops
there's space
here
too much
flows in
you are not here
no one else is here
I waver
above the background
things crash in me
have no business here
I am their battleground
they believe
if I believe
I believe
they will get old
and die
If only their
shrill beliefs
would
burn with them