Work Text:
Many people l know are talking about killing themselves, and my plant is dying
The world keeps getting worse, no one feels safe, and my retro t-shirts are fading
People are starving in this country's streets, others are being exiled from even doing that, and my favorite mug is chipped
Humans aren't considered humans anymore, humanity doesn't get you much nowadays, and my hair is starting to fall out
There is no end in sight, I've never even written political poetry before, and my plant is dying