a fantastic lack of triumph

these were hollow and meaningless words. these were meant to hurt and these were meant to pierce. it was a terrible cloud. we are caught in rain. we are drowning. distant boats crash in our terrible and unforgiving clouds. beaches are covered in wrecked and bloody men. and their cargo is everywhere. years, decades, and centuries of secrets spread on our soil. decaying and corroding. bottles lined up for practice. waiting to explode. leaning on loaded guns and resting on our father’s rusty armor. there will be no equality. this is our steel. this is our time. we are praying for rain. we are pretending to prey.



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