(no subject)

[apiphile]

this came to me in a dream

ever since i learnt that sorrow
will radicalise you rightwards
that nostalgia is the gateway
to burning books and babies
i've been afraid to mourn
the things that i've lost.

i notice them passing;
'letting things become normal'
will after all hasten our fall
into the clutches of fascism;
but i am afraid to mourn
the things i've lost.

you tell me that fossilised grief
is also a portal to the evils
of authoritarianism and its ilk
and realisation dawns:

you think that everyone else
is just like you.

but i'm not one loss away from vengeance,
i'm not one terror away from jackboots
my heart doesn't beg for a team to play for
i can run
i can run and i can run
and i run and i run and i run

from the echoes of the things i've lost
from the sound of my heartbeat
from the ones i love
and the ones who hate me;

you think that everyone else is just like you, mourning loss as a knife in their breasts
instead of wind
blowing through the fragile grass
of our ribs.

give me a minute and i can let go
the road is longer than you imagine
from here to saying the words they've inscribed
on their chapels to allegiance

i may be afraid to mourn the things i have lost
but i am not afraid of myself any more.