Sitting in bed

Waiting for the world to end

Or maybe to start.

My heart

A battlefield of friends 

And enemies

Love and passion

Embers fizzling in the rain

The aftermath.

Scared to read, scared not to read

Fearmongers long for both

But my eyes eat it all

All the bitter, nasty bile

Vile accusations and 

Trial after execution

Just like the last six weeks.

So many lies,

I can only hope

This is more of the same.
Lying in bed,

Waiting for the world to end

Bending not to my will,

My vote, my hope,

Or that of 

58% of the others.

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