Immune

How have I grown so numb to pain?

Blood, a severed limb, a shattered body—none of it shakes me anymore.

I worry which scarf to pair with my crimson dress for an upcoming party.

The struggle with choice overload is a real challenge!

The other day, I saw a child’s face, lost and helpless, torn from family, eyes filled with pain.

Hold on, my mobile data is running low.

Can’t believe this is happening to me, living in the West in the 21st century?

It’s so frustrating!

I hear children speak of their aspirations,

of who they want to become if only they escape death —

their eyes full of hope, their smiles so sweet,

their innocence untouched.

Here, I’m fuming at the slow roadwork and patchy roads that delay my commute in the morning.

What a way to start the day!

What a waste of my precious time. Why can’t they work faster?

Where is my tax money going?

I saw the face of a youth who once held grand dreams.

Behind his weary eyes, I saw the emptiness

and the thousands of fragments of those now-shattered dreams.

Excuse me, I need caffeine.

I am losing sleep over a colleague who gets to attend an important meeting

—while I’m left behind.

The world is so unfair!

I saw a father cradling the still body of his child, tiny fingers entwined in his own,

perhaps blaming himself for being unable to protect his precious one. 

I say, ‘Another day, another tragedy’.

Sometimes I wonder: am I dead?

If not, why do I feel nothing—has my heart grown immune to all the suffering, agony and despair?

Or is this what happens when humanity dies collectively?

Years since the passing of humanity.