this is how all the good leaves my body.
with a mad sort of fire springing up in my
bones, shaking me to the depths of my veins.
with the full force of pseudo-helplessness of the
effect of not being to help people. pathetic. sunlight
enters my room & turns around me without touching.
i think about killing concentration camps in 20-seventeen.
i think about what i would do if given a gun and locked with
the man who was behind all killings, his mouth gagged. would i
pick up the gun and point it to his head? would i pull the trigger? it
would end pain and suffering and even though i believe no one is born
a murderer and everyone deserves second chances and there is inexplicable
goodness in everyone, it scares me to think i would slice the bullet through his
head. what would the difference be between us if we both chose hate? is that why
no one is making a difference anywhere? is that why nothing about this is changing?
~~~
just please go read about the russian concentration camps in chechenya. it's nazi era all over again. it's happening right now and no one is talking about it.
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Acoustic Memories
Poetrypoetry burns through our veins like it did in yours. for what is poetry except inked music? Highest Ranking : #86 POE
