Humanity, you are not animal enough. You growl, but you don’t strike with your claws, you shoot from a distance and hide. You scour for flaws, buzzing in technology, saving face behind screens, bruising at thoughts never carried out.

Fur and fluff and teeth and grime–that’s you on the inside. Dirt and mud and stink, roll in it, find your hysterics and run. Fucking run.

Grow your hair to your toes. Dig something up with your tongue. Touch something real with your hands. Pull weeds from their roots. Blister your feet. Sweat and ache and move.

We’re all falling down. The tighter we pack ourselves the more we wiggle for space, crazy-going, itching in our layers.

Religion and politics and right, rite, write.

Our mammalian selves are dehydrating. Body requires contact. Senses. Pain. Exquisite joy.

Knowing is no knowing at all.

We are a series of atoms, genes, molecules, cells, dna, vibrating at a level boarding on wrath, yet we are tactile and emotive and we are better than this.

There is a terrible tearing at our core.

Tell me, how do we change?

 Wishing great strength and peace to the victims of our madness.