Please

More than 10 people died this year. I wish you’d pay attention to that instead of someone that was in a movie that you liked when you were little. Countless moms, dads, brothers, sisters, friends were lost to us. People who loved. People who mattered. People who changed the world. People that deserved more. Deserved better. The constant bitching at 2016 as an entity makes me crazy. Yes, shit happened this year. But we did it! We put Trump in office. We destroyed the earth.

Allowing yourself to be distracted by garbage perpetuates everything your raging against.

Quit bitching and do something.

We, The Brokenhearted

All of us are We, The Brokenhearted.

And we, the brokenhearted, are blind to
the others in our company.
For our pain is most
singular.
We know
It has not been asked of anyone before this day
To live this loss.
To suffer so completely.

And we, the brokenhearted, search long,
Hard through our despair to make
A connection with someone
To witness.
To validate.
But only voyeurs apply
All too caught up in what
They want. What they
Need. What shapes their pain. Its
Manifestations.

And we, the brokenhearted, crack a bit more
For lack of understanding
Ourselves
Breaks us.

Finished Yet?

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

When can I be done?
When we have enough to be finished.
But when will that be? I’m tired. My fingers hurt and my back is sore.
I’m sorry, sweetie, but we don’t have enough to be finished.
But …
Quiet, now. Complaining won’t get it done any faster.
Why are you crying?
Hush. Let’s get this done.
Do you think they’ll like it?
Who?
The people buying these?
Oh, I don’t know honey. They’ll probably just throw it away.
What? But it’s so beautiful and we work so hard.
It’s just the way it is. Finish up now.
Alright, momma.

 

Written for Moral Mondays (https://moralmondays.wordpress.com)