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Day 9
Poem 8

Today’s prompt was to write something you’re afraid to say. After some back and forth, I decided on this. I admit that I have developed something of a fascination with online comment sections. I admit that I’m afraid.

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I confess that I can’t read an article on injustice
without the comments too. I walk eager
among the faceless, guard up, waiting
for them to pull me down. Provoke me,
tell me I belong in the kitchen
or in hell, how all victims are thugs and survivors
liars and how things were better when we all
knew our place. I fume, pitch long arguments
as if I’ll change minds already set, shame
the shameless.

I confess that yesterday
I passed a truck plastered in comments,
two men in love juxtaposed with burning
towers, condemning us all to hell. I had nothing
to say, no anger, no anecdotes. Just hurried past,
spent all day with quiet fear roiling bitter
in the depths of me.

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