GENOCIDE BLUES

I always thought that Armageddon was too distant,
the fantastical thought of a sci-fi-obsessed teen,
the suspense-filled 354th page of my favourite novel
and the eternal feeling of “this never happens to me.”

Until it does.

Drowning in denial.
Estranged and p a r a l y s e d,
we tell ourselves our efforts are enough.

Slowly it crept into my cells
that we were never safe
as long as even one person’s light goes out
in the smoke of chemical explosions
we are all dying, every day

A blood-stained kiss
Mothers clutching their baby’s last toy
White flags become make-shift body bags
Abandoned lunch tables
Food strewn around mixed with crumbling cement
Salted with dust and seasoned with blood
Dead children smiling at us from our instagram feeds
As we go on about our day, during an apocalypse

And the children say:

@world
Here is my newest dress, drenched in blood.
Will my legs grow back?
My entire family tree has been wiped out.
Today I saw a man carrying his child’s remains in plastic bags.
#humanrights

And if you gaze for long into an Instagram feed, the Instagram feed gazes also into you.

Blindfolded and n u m b,
we tell ourselves we are doing all we can.

The apocalypse is here in the way
our bones ache,
our hearts bleed,
our bone marrow turns to ice
news cycle after news cycle

The apocalypse is here, my love,
and it is happening to us
We are the 354th page
Let this seep into your system
causing a chemical imbalance
Let it be known
Armageddon isn’t gas masks and nuclear winter
It’s the age of televised genocides and doomscrolling, baby
It’s just you and me and the end

I hold onto your hand until my veins painfully burst
If we look away now
who will look at us?

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Hella Grichi, 32, Berlin - Germany ✯ IG: @hellalujah.mp3