Social

It flickers in backgrounds

of silence

and emptiness

As we wait

with bait

(ed)

breath

For it to

take us

To worlds

of words

carefully

crafted

manufactured

and structured

into entire constellations

made of

calculated impressions

and fleeting gratification

As we

watch ourselves

fall

into walls

That reflect

each

and

every

one

of

them

As ones turn

into twos

and twos

to

threes

and threes

to

fours

As we

For

ages

forage

through lines and feeds

 

Feeding

ourselves

More and more

and then

when we think

we’ve had enough

and heard enough

slightly more

Till

we begin

to feel

like

we can’t

feel anymore

like

we can’t

react

to

the exhaustion

and constipation

Till

we begin

to feel

(To feel!)

Like

like

like

Like:

Is this everything

?

Slowly falling

and fading

into

hesitations

that

cut through

consellations

of

calculated impression

Leaving

behind

scars of

our sanity

in their own darkness

Grinding

then

pouring

their remnants

into segments

Of

nothingness

_

What was I running away from?

 

© Hudson Biko

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