“This isn’t supposed to be happening here”

This refrain of disbelief has been echoing relentlessly in my mind

What better phrase to encapsulate the fragile safety net of those living in the heart of empire

For many nestled in the imperial core, war is a distant specter, a mere concept

The haunting drone of surveillance doesn't echo in our ears, its absence a silence we barely notice

Our windows remain unshaken as missiles rain down on neighbors, lives shattered beyond recognition

The blood spilled in distant lands never stains this soil

This world remains untouched, wrapped in the illusion of safety

“This isn’t supposed to be happening here”
because it’s supposed to be happening *there*

The people dehumanized and abandoned

Where bombs drop and we stand unmoved

Where genocide is reduced to a headline

“Hundreds of murdered children” becomes a hollow statistic

Rubble and destruction are mere photos on Instagram, easily ignored and effortlessly swiped away

And here I sit, untouched, as the world burns