Their Death

We can’t survive this. We can’t go on like this. We can’t let it go on. We can’t let it go on. It has to be ended – and soon. It has to be brought to an end – imminently.

There must be no more of this. No more outrage. No more gratuitousness. No more more. Not again again. Not the next day and the day after that.

Is it compulsory? Does it have to be compulsory? Must there always be more?


You want out. You want to opt out. You want to escape. You want to press eject. You want the exit. You can’t breathe. You’re suffocating. You can’t get a breath. You can’t take in any air. There’s no air to breathe. Not here. Not in this universe.


You want to retch. You want to retch it all up. Everything you’ve swallowed. Everything you’ve eaten and drink. Everything you’ve taken in of this world. Everything imbibed. Everything drawn down. Everything swallowed.

The desire to vomit it all up. The desire to expel it all, all the poison that you were made to take. All the evil stuff that you swallowed down. That they made us eat and drink and breathe.


The only world is their world. The only air is their air. The only sky is their sky. The only earth is their earth. The only snow is their snow. The only ice is their ice. The only days are their days. The only nights …  

And you can’t even kill yourself. Because the only death is their death. You can’t stab yourself to death because the only knives are their knives.