7.16.2020.
we spoke of
obligations
when the door opened, leading one out.
a sunny day.
fled to seek Detachment.
a bug snuck in and circled around us.
i two-stepped as others ran near it in rage.
we’re no longer barbarians, yet
we still must kill what disturbs us.
our fingernails have purple polish on them since the world told us we were
royalty without title.
the human experience says
live exactly like each other
and when together,
discuss your conformity.
devoid of depth.
jokes on
unsatisfactory feelings with life,
not knowing it’s their soul
trying to reach consciousness.
restless sleep:
blame technology and
blame loneliness.
the door opens, and we see
two unknowns have come back.
they say Detachment isn’t for them.
comfortable with Earth.
“we’re only human,” they say.
iii xv. 