now I watch

wake to scenes of another school up in flames. children sleeping in the classrooms (their homes already flattened by the siege). the blaze surrounds the silhouette of a girl trying to find her way out of the building through the window. you can watch the footage on your phone. the video ends and we don't know if she escapes. I wonder if she has parents to return to or if the bombs have left her orphaned.

the morning is a seat at the desk and an empty head. I tend to inboxes and tiptoe through documents unaffected by the news I read and the lifeless faces I see on my phone. at some point I'll think about my capacity to carry on and crawl back into my wrinkled routine of mundanity and self-obsession no matter what I hear or know about the world outside. maybe I will start to question how desensitised I've become to the suffering of others and what this says about the size of my heart and capacity to channel the compassion I once took such pride in. sometimes I stop and scare myself at how little I manage to care, how much my openness has closed in the face of disillusionment with the world and what I can't control. kindness was a weakness once. I used to care too much. now I watch children burn alive while brushing my teeth.

I hang my clothes to dry with questions I can never ask. listen out for birds that never come. maybe time to try again soon.