Goodnight Old Hatred; See You Tomorrow

I woke up this morning as I usually do,

drunk on a history not entirely mine.

I saw reality yawn, stretch, and check the time

apparently, I was late for simply existing.

“Don’t panic; remember, reality isn’t just a suggestion.”

Here it comes, always on time,

the strange, typical, irrational,

trying to consume me.

But in certainty, I’m an altar hate can’t stop kneeling at,

revering me while cursing the floor.

Yet, despite the staggering weight of all that accidental power,

I simply exist.

So if hatred crowns me king,

then who am I when it finally looks away?

Sleep tight, old hatred.

I’ll exist just as simply tomorrow.