Catharsis in the violence,
Or solace, I guess.
Like, my heart’s breaking
But it’s vaguely okay
Because the world’s breaking too.
And I know, it’s terrible of me
To relate to strangers fleeing for their lives,
It’s terrible of me
To take solace
In sickness, destruction
From the ease of my laptop screen,
But here’s a truth I’ve learned anyway:
Are the best things to share with anybody, any day;
When we all collapse,
When our isolation walls fall by our own desperate outreaches,
We mix up together
And make of our messes
Stained glass masterpieces.