Ode to Bed in a Time of Genocide / When I'm in Bed
When I'm in bed, no one charges me $5 for a coffee and asks me for a tip
When I'm in bed, no one charges me $30 for tacos and asks for a tip
When I'm in bed, no one charges me $9 for a craft beer, asks me for a tip, and then asks me if I have plans
to go up to Tahoe for the weekend
When I'm in bed no one asks me have you been going to the gym lately
When I'm in bed, no one ignores the 1 year and 8 month U.S. backed genocide taking place in Palestine
which my U.S. tax dollars pay for each and every month (oh, how I would love for that money to be
going to a gym membership and the stupid fucking craft beers)
When I'm in bed, no one pressures me to be healthy and happy, totally ignoring my depression
When I'm in bed, no one ignores the fact that 6 years ago I really really wanted to kill myself, and some of
the reasons have gone away and some have not
My body gets sore from spending so much time in bed
My neck hurts, I get hungry, I miss the person I used to be before this genocide
But sometimes getting out of bed hurts much more.
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