I removed politics from the narrative
In an attempt at sugar versus vinegar,
all the while shrieking that “art is political”
and best people I know are —
and the worst people I know are —
But depending on the day, it swaps
as pretension claims moral superiority
and simplicity equals blind kindness.
But there’s a nightmare flooding the streets
of Minneapolis and I can’t understand how
that same kindness smiles when ten shots are
fired on an icu nurse who swore an oath
and they create a face for Antifa,
yelling “terror” when their own comrades
are nationalists who want to kill us.
Bile rises as it has countless times and I
feel numbing sensations through my hands.
my body now manufactures lidocaine over adrenaline

I can’t keep anything straight because I’m self medicating with any dopamine I can get my hands on and I’ll have to join a twelve step program but by the time I kick this thing I’m not sure what world will be waiting for me. If me and mine are proved correct, what does it mean for the ones who were wrong, who I love just as much? Is there any coming together when shots have been fired and we’re questioning our humanity together and is there any reality where we’re not all already monsters?