apostate

they say the spill is now the worst in our history.
they say the battles are growing bloodier than ever.
they say the divide has never been so wide.
they say the crisis is not merely coming; it’s here.

my anger is threatening my skin’s softness.
my frowsy disheveled quarters can wait out my neglect.
my supervisor can go fuck herself.
my future lacks definition anyway.

I have a fist.
I have a voice that quivers this glass
before my launched projectile shatters it.
I have a presence.

We are surrounded by violence.
We are children, not siblings, of the perpetuators
who daily inflict us all with scars deeper than these tears.
We are a consequence to their actions, not vice versa.

they’ll sweep it all up, anyway.
they’ll cover up the real problems, anyway.
they’ll dilute the message of the peaceniks, anyway.
they’ll market us, anyway.

that is the beauty of their chaotic system.
I simply aim to expose its repugnant core.