Now’s the time to hate who you want to hate.
We can hate the people who killed people.
We can hate the people who provoked the people who killed people.
We can hate the injustice of it all.
We can hate the people who say “They had it coming” and we can hate the people who say, “It doesn’t sound like you have much faith in your religion if it can be toppled by a cartoon.”
We can hate the media for circling it for days like vultures circling a rotting carcass.
We can hate the media who don’t cover the things we want them to cover.
We can all hate everyone we need to hate for a while.
We can hate the moderates, the politically correct and the apologists who allowed this to happen.
We can hate the extremists and the diehards and the people who refuse to see anything differently.
We can hate the people who are trying to make it about something other than what it is.
We can hate the people who are for the guns that killed people.
We can hate the people who are against the guns those who died could’ve protected themselves with.
We can hate those who find hate as an answer before we’ve even asked the question.
“What are you in highschool you fucking jerkoff, go write another poem you faggot or put your fucking boots on and learn to hate.”
Because hate is comfortable, like an old chair you know and love.
You can put hate on like a pair of Levi’s you’ve had forever.
“What kind of pussy are you for not hating someone at a time like this.”
Hate like a river that flows to many fields.
Hate like a flower that blooms in your heart.
“Let’s bomb the fucking desert into glass and make a mirror so big you could hold it up to God’s face and scream
Look at what you’ve done.
Look at what you’ve done.”
And if we hate enough and we’re lucky, he’ll send an angel to tell us who was right.
But it was you.
You were always right.
He’ll say each of us is a universe.
He will lean down and take your face in his hands and whisper it again and again.
“It was always you.
You were always right.”
My child, you will weep, for all the hate, you love.