If it were not going
straight into the fiery hearts
of their mythological
hell in a handbasket, please
believe me, I would surely wish
the world to you,
but seeing as it is
what it is, as all those annoying
fucks tend to say, I will do you one better
and wish you
the very best and brightest possible future,
regardless
of our awaiting
conditions.
With that said: I offer
a few meager confessions:
From the more sensitive part
in the cold, black, dead heart
of my generation, and at least
a couple hundred generations
behind, allow me
to offer an apology,
albeit one
that offers nothing
in the sense of a way
around or beyond
this coming
cataclysmic situation:
I am eternally sorry.
Too disoriented,
so misguided was I.
So involved
with all these inner struggles of mine,
too occupied
in my profession of acting powerless
to conjure
the vaguest semblance
of strength
to enact and help sway
this shattered
populace
from the brink
of collapse,
just falling away
before my eyes,
forever after stinging with sweat,
stained
with the pronounced, red veins
of insomnia,
weighed down,
tormented with guilt,
plagued
by insomnia breeding
confusion, delusion, hallucination:
breakthrough…
visions, abilities, the dawn
of transformative revelations
far too late
as we had slipped passed
the sacred lip of the event horizon,
fallen, spaghettified,
into the unknown…
Never wanted this.
Our own hellfire
had become our home,
and so, now: yours,
and however pathetic,
I will do what I can.