Your micro aggressions are felt at every slight,
The hate in your eyes is unforgiving, and unforgivable.
If you climbed to the highest ceiling, brush on your paintstick,
You’d only leave a mystery of human misery.
I’d love it if you found joy, and happiness, but you don’t deserve any of it.
But neither do I guess, a lonely excuse for oxygen.
Stagnant and old, best days behind me, behind us.
A terrible state for the end of the world,
The lines on the map mean nothing now.
They are just chalk that has been washed away,
Like any history we had.