When people start shouting, I want to run to my room. To pull up the covers.
Or else, stand like a statue with a momma’s stern what’s-the-deal, knock-it-off look.
But I feel the train coming, and it will soon overtake.
Covid held back the rush for months.
Like a superhero with heels peeling up the tracks.
But now it’s begun.
The meanness is permeating the seems, seeping in, sneaking in.
Dripping out of eyes and teeth, pounding in guts and temples, racing through veins.
Wishing and demanding.
And never, ever giving in…