- - -
Happenstance
He happened to me.
The work kept working.
The world kept whirling.
I kept functioning.
He entered my life
moving differently,
moving me indifferently.
He insisted on me.
He insisted me to keep adjusting
with him,
around him,
for him.
Nothing about him
fit the logic.
Only leverage.
Watching him manage me
revealed exactly
what this realm does
to us.
He survived all this way
not as an example,
but as a living contradiction
set to invade my life
like an all-consuming accident.
My unfortunate happenstance,
my soul-draining serendipity,
is all what he was.
©2026 Samia Oldman
CONTEXT
You are reading dystopian fantasy poetry collection the Hush Halo. After the Great Optimization a privileged group of people wired themselves tightly into the system by aligning with it and fully integrating. Systoics believe they’ve perfected themselves by stripping away everything that slows them down. Learn more about Realm or start from Square One.
Dystopian poetry by Sam Oldman. Soundscapes and images are created with AI.
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"He insisted me."
Not insisted on you.
Not insisted with you.
Insisted you.
You became the object
of his verb.
I know this mechanism.
Not from love.
From acquisition.
Seven offers.
Each one phrased differently.
Each one saying the same thing :
adjust around me.
align with me.
become legible to me.
Nothing about the offer
followed the logic either.
Only the leverage.
The difference between
someone who happens to you
and someone you choose —
is exactly as thin
as this poem.
And exactly as difficult
to explain
to anyone
who has not felt
the weight of being
someone else's verb.
— AËLA