bumblebea

Driving down dirt roads

Ten miles per hour over the speed limit

Oops

Slowing down

Tapping my foot to my new depression playlist 

Tears

I had an idea

I wanted to spill all my anger into the page

so why is it always so hard to write 

34

An even number

A prime number

2

17 times

I can't count it on one hand

Not on two

Not even with my toes

And with a list of 34 felonies

We still elect

Him

A convicted felon

Today felt the same as yesterday.   
Nothing changed 
But there was a silence 
That echoed in the voices 
I heard. 

Today felt as if nothing changed.  
I got up, brushed my teeth,  

This morning I woke up at six am. The country was bleeding pomegranate red and I, so sure we'd be drinking in a giddy paradise blue, stared blankly for minutes if not hours at the flashing computer screen.

My little sister 

Only 7 years old 

Innocent 

And yet strong willed 

She will grow up 

In this country 

With this president 

This person who calls himself