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.
It was the year when millions died And a girl woke out of love It was when shells were broken Souls roamed free Bodies stuck to their cages For what seemed like ages
People online played board games A man broke his back Scratching miles on earth To and fro, a migrant and a labourer Nothing more nor less Perhaps a little less human
Sunrise dripped out of the sky The youth shed tears Mourning its days of freedom Hearts beat as fast as Fingers typed on screens Reality had shifted its venue
And the old, they died And I remembered the saying Death is the death of the fear of death But death is real as real can get. It was the year we all broke anew It was the year I fell for you.
mimimusing 