i don’t know what to do

When I was younger I imagined my older self wielding the mythic power of adulthood, and the respect that must come with it, to really impact sweeping change.

But they haven’t stopped using my tax money to kill children, everything is the same.

And somehow, even now,

I don’t know what to do.

Posting on social media is probably a distraction, feeding inertia through sideline noise. It could also help break someone who reads it out of apathy.

I don’t know what to do.

I should go join a protest, but which one? Starting the work is daunting when you know it’s never done.

Giving money to people on the front line helps and makes me feel better, even though I know it won’t heal the root cause. Look at the 1% for who’s taking all the jobs.

I make my voice heard, but human rights still don’t matter much under the red white and blue.

That’s not an excuse, I just don’t know what to do.

The oppression machine wants to be ignored as an inevitability, hoping we give up trying to imagine a better world, it wants to wear me down.

But the funny thing about imagination and hope is they’re not so easy to drown.

The injustice and horror should stir me to link arms and march with every one of you, yet still...

I don’t know what to do.