I'm lost in this world of 'M's' and 'K's',

forgetting the thread between 'I' and 'U's'.

the numerous ink blots programmed to satisfy us,

 rather than the masterpieces we helped paint.

stick figures in this pop up world,

held up by the strings of our pasts and desires like a puppet on a string.

tubes connecting this world to another,

only for our ears to hear and hearts to listen,

acts like castaway shield away from the constant ticking of the time bomb of our brain.

maybe I'm searching for a full battery,

the lowest possible screen brightness,

and the highest possible volume,

or the weakest wifi signal to finally tear my eyes from the toxic glare.

something to treasure, 

something to keep in this worlds of truths and lies.

maybe i hope that we can hear the melodies that our capillaries play,

and the galaxies that our eyes miss,

but that may only occur when our bones are fine dust,

memories of the winds playing around our marrows in a soul song.

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