Hate Is a Four-Letter Word

Poetry

“ripped apart” couldn’t begin to describe the moment

when you realized the world isn’t fair or in your favor —

at least in the realm of the superior crowd making

you believe that you’re lesser than they are,

more a construct than a living, breathing person

the signs are all there-the turns of phrase,

the laughter between words, the poison dripping —

and they act as if it’s all right, just a gag, lighten up —

like you’re too sensitive in a wave of cancel culture

that makes all the comments blow up online

but you see how the anger rises, defenses heightened,

because no one likes to be called [insert word here]

even though their actions tell more than words ever can

(because people often don’t realize they’re liars,

even to themselves, and so the cycle continues)

even the conversations you think are innocuous

can lend to a darker tint under the light of day,

and it’s gotten to the point where no headline