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Torture

This isn’t torture.
Torture happens in small, dark rooms in countries with names you struggle to spell.
This is just mildly unpleasant.
This isn’t heroism.
Heroism happens in churches that are also schools, performed by teachers with no names and no place to stay.
This is just a good deed for the day.
This isn’t loss.
Loss happens on fields filled with poppies, in hospitals buzzing with flies, in distant deserts and late at night when there’s no good reason for the phone to ring.
This is just longing.
This isn’t important.
Important happens on bended knees and is breathed on last breaths with hands clutched tight, hearts tighter.
This is just a distraction.

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