WANN

we are not numbers

emerging writers from Palestine tell their stories and advocate for their human rights
A boy standing between tents holding an empty pot.

You scroll

You scroll and witness a child chasing a water truck / your heart shatters in the silent chase.

Kite in Palestinian colors with test "WANN."

You scroll and witness a child chasing a water truck—
your heart shatters in the silent chase.  
You scroll and see a child wailing over his father’s lifeless form—
sympathy wells, heavy and raw.  
You scroll.

You see a child starved into nothingness—
unease gnaws at your soul.
You go blank.
Helplessness presses your lungs.
You reach for a snack,
then scroll.

You glimpse an infant consumed by flames in a refugee tent—
tears sting your eyes, unbidden. 
You scroll.
You watch parents perish trying to fill empty stomachs,
silent desperation etched in their faces.
You scroll.
You feel it.
Then

you scroll again.
And again.
Until feeling
becomes noise.
Until death
becomes content.
Until suffering
is algorithm-friendly.

You look for more
They look for mercy

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