I check a favorite social media app before bed

to find it unusually overwhelming.

I am struck by an endless parade

of horrifying news stories.

Everything feels

unreal and too real.

 

I spend the next day

trying to gain back my filter,

the one that keeps me from seeing

so much of what is happening in the world,

that blocks out all the clutter in the house,

that adds shades of gray to the bright white

and oppressing darkness.

I ground myself in unmindfulness.

 

I need layers between the world and me.

I like my glasses dirty

so I don’t see everything too clearly.

I need my illusions.

I am a broken magician

trapped in reality.