We shriek and howl, beg and plead in plaintive wails / hit auto-tune / share / await commiseration.
When we’re small, we ask to be held. When we strut, we take on the world.
Friendship is gauged by feigned concern in our echo chambers of conceit. We build ramparts to keep out the whisper of truth / but still strain to hear our own names.
Shyness is a lonely suicide but that of the braggart is biblical. When the book is set down and the last word is uttered, our dust will disperse in soft effusion / no faces no names – no shit.
A little girl sobs in the corner – she is the world on the brink. We ignore her at our peril.
Angry mob storms embassy at dawn – a crying girl’s distraction when no one comes to dry her tears.
God or tribe, it’s all just you but there’s no you apart from me. It’s all too much until it’s not and now it goes back ‘round again.
Stupid questions asked anew. Weeping in binary code.
Sooner or later, we all fall silent / so why do we speak at all?