Don’t know if I can
shake off soul deep exhaustion,
when breathing feels brave.
This poem is linked to Imaginary Gardens with Real Toad’s Tuesday Platform.
Liner Notes for this Groove:
“I don't want tea, I want justice!” ― Ally Carter, Uncommon Criminals
To say I’m emotionally drained after this weekend is an understatement. I was already feeling a little less than my perky self when I got involved in a conversation that started when an extremely
woman tried to appeal to my husband to agree with her that the current occupant
of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue is not a racist. (It was, however, more than
slightly glorious to watch her shock as my normally soft-spoken husband told
her where she go with her nonsense.)
Then I heard about the shooting. And the reason why the shooter did it. There is something profoundly unsettling when you know that you are part of the group a gunman in a recent massacre was hoping to target.
There’s a lot I could blather on about. A bunch of small things I hoped would go my way just didn’t. I could say that’s what’s bothering me if people ask. I probably will use one of those as an excuse, depending on who's doing the asking. But it’d be a lie.
Can't lie to myself though. It's not terribly helpful in the long run. I can do neither more or less than let myself acknowledge what I'm feeling, and work through it as best I can.
|Artwork by Cristal Gutiérrez.|
See more of her gorgeous art on Instagram and her Etsy store.
Song Choice: No Es Mi Presidente by Taina Asili