End Times

Take back your apocalypse,
we have no need for your prophecies.

We have found girls with sharp bones and cities
who don't know our faces, but welcome us all
the same. The wind has been kind
to our hairstyles, and the trains wait for us.

Take back your apocalypse,
we have no use for your end times.

A younger us, an ignorant us, longed for a
change; a violent shock, a blackened sky.
We have found new homes, have practiced
strange rituals of our own.

Take back your apocalypse,
we have no patience for your fear.

There was a time when we wished to join
the fray. (We were going to be firefighters
when the floods rolled back.) The time
has passed, like your relevance.

Take back your apocalypse,
we have no room for your words.

We have no room for your scrolls.
We have no room for I'm Sorry.
We have no room for stockpiles.
We have no room for the end.