By Denarii Monroe
“How are you doing?”
I’m empty inside;
no will
to fill
my belly.
I’m useless;
unable
to defend
my Pride.
I’m frozen
in fear
in anger
in sorrow
in
“Is this when it hits?”
The PFZT PFZT PFZT of bullets striking into the mist.
I’m tired
of the merry-go-round.
Let me out
of this amusement park.
We are
no longer
amused,
used
for political gain.
This isn’t a game.
How many victims can you name?
How many newscasts look the same?
So many pointing fingers, but we’re to blame.
“How are you doing?”
I’m silent
and screaming
and quiet
and reeling,
but I can laugh.
I can laugh.
And that’s something
Denarii (rhymes with “canary”) is a New York-based freelance writer/editor, aspiring screenwriter and activist. She loves social justice liberation, red wine, cooking and eating, and blues and jazz.