will you weep when you feel this love you have killed? oh, until we all come crashing down, we are what we are. (or: who killed the neanderthals?)

there's no security in our dorm rooms
or our miniature refrigerators.
this is just one way we learned to cope.
sometimes it's enough but sometimes we get hurt
and they tell us we have to learn from it.
but i'm not strong enough to cope
and i'm not smart enough to learn.
i feel like a pre-human,
gracile in form,
with the bits of my brain in all the wrong places.
they say we took over because of our
"complex social milieu."
but i can't figure it out.
how to relate to everyone else.
i'm 1.6 million years behind

millions of years and all we've got
are badly built backs,
haphazardly built brains,
opportunistically built guile.
but who's doing the building? and why?
where were you when it all went down?
i hear the snaps and pops already.
my back is killing me and i can't
organize my overflow of ideas and i can't
stop wanting to kill small animals.
they never asked for our approval.
just threw us together and waited.
one day we're going to go extinct and
our miraculous brains can't do a thing about it.
they never asked us.
they never asked us.