we are young gods,

daughters and sons of a generation

who gave up on love a universe ago,

but we do our best to experience it-

we sell it in bottles of pop culture and rabid obsessions;

turn it into a conglomeration that profiteers on excess,

a chaos of depression, anxiety, dark self-depreciating wit-

and become artists who lament on first-world tragedies.

we are young gods,

we scoff at religion and we bathe in unholiness,

sin is the new in, black is your best act, and we love it;

we wear our indifference like an armour,

because we fear what we'll see if we're allowed

to understand our emotions and display our vulnerability.

we are young gods,

happy ever after is a joke and true love even more so,

we inhale criticism and exhale cynicism,

because the titans before us acknowledge that the world is cruel

but we embrace it- we drape ourselves in abject and misery,

stitch and mould uncaring faces onto our flesh that gaze upon

the heartbroken jagged shards of ourselves, bleeding guts and glory

embedded all over the cement patch wood floors, amongst the whisky and wine.

we are the young gods;

a mass of degenerates with our entitlement and liberals,

a numbing, sweet hollow feeling that we substitute

for the lack of love and care that we've grown used to;

a realism that carves like a knife at tender ages and

we wear our sadness like a charm- aesthetics to be envied;

we're self-destructive, faithless, pointless,

burning in our question for the meaning of existence

and the only religion we'll ever bow down to

is ourselves.

You’d look at yourself
with eyes so doubtful
Not even blinking but
judging the ruins of others

What we weren’t supposed to do

You’d rather spend time
Staring at the dull vanity
Wasting the minor minutes
& then blaming your society

*What we weren’t supposed to do

lost in my trap of idealism, i
can’t stop looking at you, i
run my eyes down your body
sting of longing rakes through my bones
you will never be mine
you will never be more than a fantasy

They haven't met each other yet,
But they've already fell in love,
I can bet

Spent days talking to each other,
Without physically hearing the words,
straight from their lover

Attachment became inevitable,
When it goes on everyday like this,
Its impending, unescapable

Promises were made without a doubt
They needed to reassure each other, that the feelings won't fade out

They've already invested in the idea,
How they want a future together,
Even to naming their daughter Sofia

It all seemed so perfect,
But they were never aware, that their relationship was the imagination's effect

They still haven't met each other yet,
It's a concept that millennials get,
By filling their lives with regret