To My Son
What is there to be said? I can only feel anger for so long until it ferments into the cold reality of endless despair. In the echo chambers of our social media spheres we are all shouting, all screaming, all crying the same thing. The hopelessness of such a familiar grief suffocates me, but outside of the safe spaces created by our collective mourning the world is evil and unfeeling.
I don’t know what to tell you. There are no rules that will protect you, but I’m reminded that they were never meant to. I can’t wrap you in cotton wool, or keep you as a baby clutched to my chest forever, so I will try my hardest not to let my fear infect you, but you have to know something: this world was built by boys like you, men just like you…
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