Hate
Stems from me
Shredding judgement
Grows inside my pocket
I held so hard onto thinkin’
Knowing I knew rights from wrong
But shit, I know nothing
Days are a chalkboard
Smeared by grasping fingers
Blowing upon words to disappear
Within the breeze
Is dust
From us
Defiant in belief
‘Wrong you say?’
‘Fuck off, this is my way!’
We justify
And outright lie
Everyday doing something small
That needs not to be done
Because it eases
Softens the separation
I cry for a turtle bound by plastic
As I open a packet of fruit shipped from afar
It’s fucking bizarre
Consequences pave the decline
Labels of ‘mine’
Our mother
Her Earth
Heals without our pity
But hate we hold
And selves we scold
Kills her softly
Nothing lightens until the load is shared
