We didn’t even notice

that we had made time our enemy,

anger our passion,

bile our wine

and spite our care.

The world had sickened us,

twisted us,

given us sharp eyes

and sharp teeth

and sharp tongues

for killing,

but no soft places.

All rough edges

and abrasive substructures

composed of unstable material.

Gunpowder souls,

waiting to go off

in an instant.


Since when were we such crude weapons?

We used to be immaculate.

We used to be love.

Never quick to stoke a fire,

or rend flesh,

but builders,




We won’t point a finger

to assign blame,

for that would be

to admit weakness

and this world is now

a hall of devourers;

teeth gnashing,

heads lifting,

testing the air

for a hint of subservience.

The strong eat the weak

but the madmen,

they scare the shit out of everyone.


Hear them call,

their battle hoards to war.

Drums in the night,

chanting bloodlust.

Insane we have made ourselves.

Anger became madness,

but I remember

we were once lovers.

Soft paper flesh

easily wounded.

Our delights were a garden

and love was our nectar.

I know,

that we still beat

with those hearts.


HG – 2017

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