Hashtag Too

When did the annihilation of another become your gateway to “playing the game”

Fitting in

“Hashtag Me Too” they quip

And you join in with cold braying laughter

That betrays the scared abandoned child in you that 

What?

Never got loved

Fed

Heard

Hugged?

When did making a dime, pound, pence, buck

Become your grail upon which to make daily pious devotion to

Stepping over the clammy bodies of women

Men

Who just didn’t make the mark

I don’t give a fuck 

You claim

I’m here to play the game

Don’t see

You

Are the game

Fresh meat

Empty soul

Ready for the taking

Manipulating

The system you believe you shall out deceive

Shall chew you inside and out

And by the time you have had your fun

Nothing will be left to call home

Sell pure truth for gold

Make amends

With a fun run

Charitable donation

A semblance

of Mala beads around the neck

Hands in Namaste

How do you say it again?

The Ayurvedic diet

Stick some bacon on that will you

The sweat lodge with the shaman who crossed your path

Sat drinking cider in the nude

Salivating over the breasts of your girlfriend

Maybe another 

Calling it consciousness

Awakened tantra for the masses

Take a sticky hand and run it down her back

Re adjusting her energy, showing her you care

Wolf in sheep’s bloodied garments 

Pretending to be all there


Hashtag me too he laughs

What separates you from the man with trousers half pulled down

Eyes closed 

Taking what he wants because she asked for it

Didn’t actually say no

I’m here to play the game he says

You could feel sorry for the small boy trapped within

But reality converges on the shoulders of the many

The asleep choose to roll over and finger their consciences into inertia


Awoken stunned by the rising sun

Glaring at our choices

The ones that make and un-make 

Roused by the clawing empty space

Next to one
Unable to ever close eyes

The inner screen of the self

Rolls those games over and again

Says you lost the chance to be redeemed in the morning gaze

Chose the path deeply trodden 

Mistook the blood spatters for markers to your destiny

Ignored the small cries of do not forget me


Blinded by the glare of the ever always sun

Finally 

He

Sees

Too

Copyright A. Agha