The Split

I’ve got a lot of hate these days.
It’s misdirected.
(Of that I’m sure.)
It creeps in through the corners, licking at my senses.

Unease radiates.
I can’t put my finger on it.

It’s split us in a new way.
(Not just by who we voted for.)
This self-preservation, this interpretation of ‘right’.
And now I don’t know where I stand.

I don’t stand.

I fall through the gaps.

I check myself against what I hold to be right.
Proper and sensible and kind and safe.
(It’s important to be safe.)

There’s this buzz.

Of judgement and resentment.
Lingering, getting louder. Blocking out thoughts.
Blurring normality and questioning morality.
Your safe space is no longer safe.

So we split.

In two.

Those that brick up the windows to block out the danger.
Those that block out the thoughts.
Now we are suspended in this limbo.

My ears burn red with resentment.

Laura Herman
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