you're a puppet for chanting voices
and heartbroke silence;
your life sits next to you,
suit and tie and vested smile.
it's a smile you know
will work, a string attached to show the world
your beautiful worth

in oh so many words

Social last-resorts, this lielike:
"We went there together and laughed and played with eachother and danced on poles and its only getting better.
We sometimes switch roles
and I'd do what you want, or say
just the same";

othertimes
it's He, the Trend-setter,
manipulating my character with his
viral idiosyncracies:

Posioned, He speaks a word -
hears an echo from within my throat,
an anomaly... a separateness of individual that jus collapses and once again is too much to bear
"I jus wanted to be
like you;
it wasn't working-
... myself"

somewhere in the distance
through the trees- not
the forest-
past the lake running like a crack in crystal-glass,
winding through its reflection of a
half-live sky-
through the smoke of the fire we've set to signal our individuality
-- we find a solitary darkness, beckoning to jump from off its page of shadows
and swell
in us, surrounding
something pure, so atavistic that

we don't even have to prove it,
even with
anothers devices probing,
illuminating and burning
pierced eyelids open to see the world
like no one's judged
ever before