in a tent

the time slips like water through my fingers. I close my eyes and dream until they open again. the nights are getting colder now, and sometimes I miss home - mum and dad must be lighting fires by now. the ginger cat from a few doors down visits me out the back as I hang my laundry on the line. I watch him stretch in the pockets of shade from branches lurching over the tin shed roof.

anger and confusion in my heart. I see a lot that upsets me on my phone. sometimes I think I could be going mad. I sleep in a tent at the university and feel less alone in my helplessness. at the rallies I listen to the calls for peace and an end to the killings. tears come and I curse the human project to which I’m bound.

I escape myself and spend time with friends. Jenae leaves next week to chase an adventure for which she has worked so very hard. her friendship and kindness have done wonders for me, and I know I’ll feel her absence, just as I miss those I love and can no longer hold close. friends back home and friends abroad. people I’ve lost and still hold in my heart. distance or time or whatever other reason.

I lie in a tent at the university. the men in suits use big words and drop bombs on the children that should see tomorrow but won’t. I am small and insignificant in the face of a species that draws closer each breath to self assassination. and still I think of the places and people I miss and I’ve been like they matter at all. <<