weapons in space, and plants that talk

they’re launching this new strain
I call it, a paradox,
and they want nothing more than to
suck out the ideas from this already-hollowed heart
they want the infection capacity
in this cavity of my chest
they want it so bad
they are tasting the blood as we speak

why the violence? why the pure evil in its depiction?
because, my friend, you are not surfing
your wave is overturning your necessity in this society
your negativity is being burried
because I need it to be.

otherwise, I will be that duped
to see the weapons already in space
and the plants that already talk
for what they aren’t.
that, I call it, is a paradox.

dedicated to j.s. and all other activists who guide me from reality and turn me so blue some days.