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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