world on fire

Could've sworn last night the world stopped turning

But here we are, the sun insists

7 a.m. the world is burning

All I smell is this faint scent of oud on my wrist

8 a.m. morning coffee unusually bitter

Grief on the tongue that sugar can't fix

Got a lot to do today, says so right here on my list

9 a.m. and the world is burning

My manager wants me to organize some files

Looking at emails, sheets and docs, visions of bodies being burned reflected in my eyes