I can't sleep. I can't stop crying. I can't stop thinking about what I would do if this happened to the ones I love. I can't help but feel angry and helpless. I can't stop feeling that my life is considered less than because of the skin I'm in. I don't know what else to do with these feelings of rage and sadness that I feel tumbling around except perhaps to try and voice them through art. And even then it doesn't feel like enough.
But it's all I've got right now. For now.