Taping the cords

I taped the cords together. I tried hard.
But I just couldn't get into it.
I don't see the point. I don't see the end.
I don't see its hidden significance.
And fuck you, no,
I will not open my eyes.

I saw the cords falling apart, riping away layer after layer.
I saw the tape falling, to sounds and hints of lies.
Their ingrained weakness, corroding it all.

I've had enough of the smell.
Never close enough to taste.
The vivid colours I couldn't touch.
That I always failed to touch,
In my exhausted attempts.
Tired of those voices, that never moaned for me.
That never screamed my name.
That never ripped it apart from their lungs.

There's the man who lived quietly,
In quiet whispers he waited for a solution.
He dreamt of an answer, quietly falling asleep.
And just as he saw it, it was his, he could have sworn,
But, instants apart, he died, right before he was born.
And you,
Who are you?

Sphere

And so, right now, everyone has a word in.
The standard erect, for all to witness.
An opinion of sorts, a quiet whisper of thoughts.
A blunt rambling of ideas,
Bathing in the cheerful agony of views.

The background noise, the life, so loud,
It taints anything in between,
Everything we have ever seen.
You know how it feels like, how it passes through.
The touch of the untouchables, the expendable and priceless treasures.
Each a relic in itself. Flaying each other, everyday.
For the formal, the statistical fortress of they.
How you, and yes, how we strike in every letter,
Every single useless word. Spiraling phrases.
Every day, in sake of void immortality.
Bury your head in the finite, disguised infinite, and forget about the end.
The inkless reminder of concepts, overseeing shadows.
Blind specters of humanity.
The idiot's dream, forged in the man's speech.
Endlessly multiplying, as the servers are crying.

The soft impression left by the grain of sand.
A throwster, spinning away the vacant space.
Washed ashore, wet and scarred with the crowd,
When everyone looks the same, you try the impact of yourself.
Look around. And see it mirrored in them.
See it reflected, in perfect resonance.
And with it, see the true colour and shape of what lies ahead.
And don't look for clues. They've already fled.

Know sleep won't come.
Open wide, let it sink in.
Sorry, for your skin's still the same,
I am sorry, but I doubt it'll ease the pain.