This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.
– The Hollow Men by T S Eliot

Aloneness is carved so deep
Into the millennial DNA.
We are the potter’s art
Being scraped away
into Instagrammable shapes
After being turned on the wheel.
We take pottery classes
On weekends
To play with mud
and to feel…
(at one with nature).

Eat dirt or ass or pussy
We say in our memes.
We use the memes
to talk about
How difficult it is
to talk about
On relationships
time and effort.
Time and effort.
We don’t have time for that.
We ain’t gonna

Our effort
(Five seconds that loop
Into moments, days, years) involves
the next big thing
(That lasts for seconds like our orgasms)
On our phones and tabs
On Netflix
We chill with the devil
Even when he is just
A human facsimile.
Just like we are.

We are heteronormative
And cisnormative
And majority tinted tonedeaf
In a world of queer rainbow coloured meme makers.
(Own it)
God, those gays
(Own it)
With eggplant dicks.
(Own it)
And peach asses.
(Own it)
And their squads
(Own it)
Are so real
(Own it)
(Own it)
So woke.
(Own it)
So fun.
(Own it)
The bitches.
(Own it)

So we top it.
So we suffer.
But we enjoy
Entitlement, privilege,
Modi and Trump,
Our lack of suffering.

Instead we talk about
(Own it)
Because we have
High-functioning anxiety.
(Own it)
(Own it)
Adderall, please.
Or vapes.
CBD or acid
in the
vegan smoothie.
(Own it)

We are introverts
(Who never read a book.
They made a show on Prime.)
With a dash of FOMO.
We then contradict it
With JOMO.
Time and effort
Takes time and effort.
We are too busy for that.

We ain’t got no time for that shit, mama.
We assure past generations.
We are not lonely.
We fuck through Tinder
Our love lives
On ghosting.
We might be
Commitment(Except we could now get you committed. Dang!)averse
Phobic of letting anyone in.
We let you, the parents, get in
And look where that got us.
(Bitch, please.)
Thank you, but no thanks.
Say yes to aloneness.
That also takes
Time and effort
To cultivate these beards,
These looks,
Spread this air
Of superior indifference,
As a social influencer,
And go viral.
time and effort
to create
Trending hashtags
(who might easily murder us because they)
always know
through Live Stories
Where we are
our aloneness.

We may bleed blood
(after we cut ourselves)
But we clot aloneness.
(Own it.)
#mikedrop #totes #wordporn

About Bhumika's Boudoir

I love to laugh, and end up being a part of high drama and stormy emotion even when I don't pursue it. Being creative, and communicating with people get me going. I enjoy all the good things in life especially those that are slightly risque, and apologise little, if ever, for all that I do. Literature is a passion and so is music.
This entry was posted in Idle Thoughts, Intoxication Induced. Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Whimper

  1. Rajni says:

    A strong and poignant poem. I read it and re-read it. It resonates. I so fuckin’ love the end!
    We may bleed blood
    (after we cut ourselves)
    But we clot aloneness.
    (Own it.)
    #mikedrop #totes #wordporn
    Thank you for this!


  2. Div says:

    Love it. Relatable. Deep.
    “We may bleed blood
    But we clot aloneness”
    Millenial me was nodding aggressively reading that 🙂 Good job!


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