Sweet solitary bells ring from your alarm
and you wipe crusty tears from your eyes
because you stayed up until 2am to watch the election results.
Mechanical movements dictate your dressing.
All black you decide
because you are in mourning
of our nation.
No time to eat breakfast
you spent too much time staring at the wall blearily
pinching yourself and wondering if this is real.
You don't have an appetite.
You put a lot of layers on,
something needs to protect you from the cold hovering in the air,
the frozen tears on peoples cheeks,
the frozen frowns on people's lips,
the frozen feeling of despair that taints us all.
You don't really walk,
more like sag your way to the bus stop.
Standing in the bitter air,
suddenly angry because you are so tired of waiting.
No one talks when they walk into school,
they just hug and cry and hug,
and the adults cry too.
Some of them, the others smirk and wonder
why this is such a big deal.
You try to glare,
at the ones who smile.
But there is already so much hate that
you can't bring yourself to expose anyone to anymore.
You curl up into a ball when you get home
and run your fingers through the numbers
of the results.
The popular vote,
the electoral college.
And when you finally accept it.
Not that he is president,
but that something has to be done,
then you curl a half crushed newspaper that
shouts the results and you toss it in the trash.
And you smile, and love, and respect, and express yourself
because that is exactly what he doesn't want you to do.