The Text I Didn't Send

Are you not tired?

The Text I Didn’t Send
at 9:05 am on 8/8/23

Photo taken by Nneka Julia in Lisbon, Portugal (2023) on 35mm film.

Are you not tired?

Of standing for nothing
Of falling for everything
Of walking the 100 miles in Mary Olivers’ poem
suffering, repenting, on the soft of your knees
Of making men your center
Of only reaching for pleasure
Of running from discomfort
Of fighting yourself
Of fooling yourself
Of blaming everyone else
Of envy eating your insides
Of your word being worthless
Of affirmation without action
Of changing your avatar more than your behavior
Of begging strangers for validation
Of posting a selfie
Of posting a self-care quote
Of posting a selfie and a self-care quote in a photo dump
Of counting the likes
Of refreshing the likes
Of hiding the likes
Of hoping it makes you whole
Of weaponizing vulnerability
Of pretending the mask will last
Of pretending the bridges built by aesthetics will hold
Of saying “it’s not that deep”
Of claiming you want “legacy”
Of claiming you want “community”
Of claiming you want “accountability”
Of claiming you care
Of laughing when they say laugh
Of clapping when they say clap
Of denying the dark
Of never questioning
Of rarely reciprocating
Of being terrified to stumble
Of being terrified to try
Of being terrified to be seen
Of doing the same gotdamn thing over and over
hoping, expecting, demanding
a different result

Are you not tired?