Disaster Management





It’s funny,
How we thank god
Every time people die in a calamity,
That it wasn’t us.
As if their lives somehow mattered
Slightly less than ours do.
As if even though we come home
To a lonely apartment every evening,
With no one to strip us down
And breathe in our nakedness,
They were somehow lonelier than us.

 

It’s funny,
How the numbers
On the headlines next morning,
Cease to be just numbers
The moment we realize that
The list of the people
Who will never breathe again
Contains the name of the person
We shared our first kiss with.

 




It’s funny
How we stop shedding tears
After four and a half days,
And go on with our lives.
As if we know that
Even though we
Will always come home
With empty hearts
To emptier apartments,
There will always be someone,
Who is lonelier than us.

 


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