Dear Diary

The air is heavy!
Each breath I draw weighs in on me
More than the ground beneath my feet
They keep saying things
And now I’ve been hit by a stray stereotype
Shot by half baked knowledge
Misplaced anger, but rightly so
2023 is armed with known men wielding unknown intentions
The price we seek seeks the blood of the innocent
Everywhere I turn, there’s a procession matching an unknown grave.

Vera