Tomorrow when they come for us
(which they might, afterall, we couldn't stop
this hate from spreading in time)
we will not know that this is real,
that it's actually happening to us
we will only stare in disbelief at the news,
dismiss it as a rumour hoping it's untrue
as our fingers get cold in fear//

Tomorrow when they come for us,
what question will you ask
(will they even listen?)
"why? why us? why are you doing this?
how have we wronged you?
what will you do with our 𝘮𝘢𝘢𝘵𝘪?"
(we will get no answers,
as the reason for hate is hate itself)
will you even ask questions
or have the horrors already
broken your spirit?
please do not stay silent
because tomorrow they will come for us//

Tomorrow when they come for us,
you will hold your baby tight in your arms
(your memories tearing up with remembrance of heartbreaking visuals of unlived lives)
you will kiss your baby's forehead
and embrace her like a promise
that's meant to get broken in the face of uncertainty
(is a promise still a promise when it's doomed to break?)//

Tomorrow when they come for us,
I will tell my love that we did the right
thing
(oh we loved in the face of blatant hatred,
in the face of the demons
who haunted our insomnia-filled nights)
I will hold her in a tight embrace
and we will die before the genocide gets us,
before the bombs touch our soft skins
and blow our skulls apart.

we will end ourselves
before we witness the
last of humanity's end
there won't be anyone left to call it a lover's suicide//

Tomorrow, when they finally come for us,
God will turn his back with a heavy heart
(who can bear witness to his creations turning into monsters)
and as people will drop dead in hundreds
somewhere there will be someone staring at their screen
horrified, mortified, in disbelief
praying to god for our peace
praying to god that tomorrow they don't come for us//

- Aarushi Verma (@half.opened on IG)