I get on a plane
To the other side of the world
And something touches me
On the inside
When the recording says—
“Be sure to adjust your own mask
Before helping others.”
That we humans saw fit
That we needed this reminder
In case of life or death
Every time we get on a plane
While in another plane
Bombs are being dropped on homes
And hospitals full of people
Just trying to make it another day
Just trying to give their kids
A life in this impossible world
That keeps showing them
Despite their best efforts that
They don’t matter enough
We watch quiet from our
White washed coffins
While they dig unmarked graves
For unrecognizable human bodies
For their friends and sisters and babies
We turn on our white noise fans
In our white walled apartments
That we are not afraid of burying us alive
We wash our kids white feet
And don’t let them see the news
And who do we think we are
That we deserve any better
That we have anywhere to call home
That we have not been left alone
And who the hell do we think we are
To say they don’t matter enough?
This too is an unmarked grave,
A death, not worthy of burial
— olivia gwyn
