apathy

they herd the starving in their thousands into fences like cattle to wait for the food they’ve been neglected for months. if not from the targeted dropping of taxpayers’ bombs on shelters and hospitals, they’ve been dying from starvation in the streets. there’s footage of the swarm rushing across the sand to the distribution point. I watch them spill into the queues like crushed tins of sardines and wonder how many of them have eaten this week. the soldiers oversee the operation: the same men who shoot these children in their homes and dress up in their victims’ clothes for fun. once more we see the masses left at the whim of the murderers of their parents and children and homeland. waiting under gunpoint and unforgiving sun for crumbs that never come. the men start shooting - bored or threatened by the thought of feeding starving children - and once more I’m streaming slaughter on my phone. it’s less surprising every time, and easier to shut off and carry on with myself the more I read and see online.

when I sleep I do so knowing I’ll wake to news of more lives lost to weapons I’ve paid for. no blood on my pillow: I’ve been sleeping fine. there’s a parasite growing in my body, sucking blood from vital organs. my heart starts to shrink a little too quickly. I fear the apathy that feeds on every absent swipe away.