seems like God
has pulled the loose strings
in the torn fabric of society

and 
we're
unravelling.

not slow, like
the days that came before
a plethora of nothingness. 
we're unravelling faster than
we can catch the stray threads
between our tortured, sin-stained
fingers. it's the butterfly effect,
but with the wingspan of a
death-breathing dragon --
one small stir
and 
a cyclone
brews.

listing things from memory
has become a nerve-wracking
experience. if i try i'll run 
out of breath. but let me try.
let me not feel the pain
of a thousand days
crammed
into
six
months.

Coronavirus/They Killed A Black Man/They Shot A Black Woman/ They Shot A  Black Man/One Hundred Deaths/Hurricanes/Fires, Fires Everywhere/ Democracies At Stake/One Thousand Deaths/Riots/Where's Justice?/One Million Deaths/Hatras Gang Rape/Ad Infinitum.

Ad Infinitum.

one thread and a gaping
hole stares at us. the void of
our existence, unsettling.

what did we do to earn this chaos?

i look up at the sky sometimes.
they say that shielding the sun
would stop the ice from melting
and leading to the dancing rage
of rising waters -- but we've been
carving holes even in invisible ozone
since time immemorial. and we talk about covering only now. 
only when the void
comes back to haunt us.

because we're not fond of
living well or letting the
children live well, but we're
afraid of dying in gory.

the sun shines too bright
sometimes. Almighty above
witnesses our gaping mistakes.
a sneering spectacle of strings
dangle loose.
and 
another
misstep
falls through.

what did we not do to earn this chaos?

it seems like God isn't
pulling the loose strings of our
societal fabric.

we're the ones who
tore it ripped it
scratched it shredded it 
gashed it stabbed it
and mangled it.

and another stray string
sways loose in vile winds.