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#1
---Sorrow’s Successor (is Everyone Lesser)---

I have this theory that everyone's going to lose their minds and everything will go to shit. After all the falling and getting back up. Post world wars and post genocides. Post bawling. Post sobbing, sniveling, and sorrow. We will be abridged. Tears will no longer find residence behind our vacant and overcast eyes. We will be reduced to what some of us already are. In the absence of man the last hero is the one who has the last sincerely heartfelt emotion, as fellow beings wrench him or her apart limb by limb. The last hero will scream at the top of his or her animal but human lungs, “We once had souls but now we have paws. We once had souls but now we have claws. These savages will dine on my flesh, but I am the last human. I am the last human, the last creature on this planet that knows who we used to be. May someone or something have mercy on your flat-lined and malnourished souls. I am the last human and my love for you all will never die. My love will never…”

Buildings will collapse because bomb’s timers will elapse. There will be troops and nukes and no one to object, because when the time comes we’ll just be filthy fucking animals. Fucking, killing, and eating.

Oh myyyyyyyyyyyy .

Oh myyyyyyyyyyyy .

Where is ?

Where is ?

Where in your name are you? If you don’t do something this overcast will ever last. Your sons and your daughters are standing on tip toes and catching rides on the tops of jumbo jets just trying to hear you breathe. They’re sleeping on skyscrapers waiting patiently for you to tuck them in. Someone save us. Leave the comfort of your bright and shining star and come save us because no animal can. When the last hero sheds his or her last tear there will be no humans left to save, and no one to train the animals we became.



---belly up---

can't you see
if I let you burrow
into my brain
climb my rocky defenses
i'd be soft, belly up
knocked on my back,

no hollow shell to shield
the blows that will come.
By then, I'll be miles away
already fumbling with the map
to my next destination

you'll try to keep me
like all the others
but i'll slip through your fingers like water
and return to the source of it all.

if i shut my eyes
i can still feel your questions
breaking me like bruises
purple and blue
diffused by lucid peach.
you asked what you did wrong.
you said to be honest.
you told me I could still count on you.

But I never belonged to you
or your burning red roses,
all the imagined chivalry.
your quiet affections
were meant for some other girl
undamaged, shiny, new.

can't you see
you're making this harder
than it has to be?
This was supposed
to be cut and go.