My silences are sprinting
They're so many, at once
There's a pimple on my wooden face
Waiting to be burst
But the silences come first
They threaten me with an explosion
I can already smell ashes
Grey, spotty, flaky, and choking
A ruined world remaking
No I'm not romanticizing
Someone else's war
All my problems are mine, okay?
My jarred edges
Reek of stale cynicism
My unlit mind
Damp and resistant to hope
I try to look like I care
Resharing brutal news
Replaying the victims' tears
I mimic activism
Lying passive in my bed of privilege
Unremarkable in my performative concern
As I think to myself
The world will always stretch, tear and burn
I am throwing my words around
Because I like their gibberish sounds
They're hurdles for the silent beams
That are racing towards me
And I don't want to be found.
My blood boils as my country heats up
You and I watch helplessly
Hopelessly
As men with empty shells for brains
Fight a war where they die, and the women get raped.
I’m paralysed
By the sheer number of heavy headlines,
Each a bullet to the heart of our beloved land.
Men die like flies
Women protest like they have nothing left to lose
And they still say, “But what about when-“
You and I,
We scream, shout, yell and cry
But end up laughing with a taste of bitterness inside our mouths.
We break into peals of laughter-
Our eyes turn into glass balls
Lips as hard as ice
Hearts as cold as the tip of a gun barrel.
Mad, aren’t we?
Aren’t we all?
mimimusing 