Hello world, stop.
Who are you, stop?
I know what it means — stop. It’s the
shutting of my mouths and eyes: stop. But
why should I have mouths and eyes
if not to use them? Stop.
Where is a sequence that rises with the sun and
in soft flurries around the feet of skyscrapers.
can I use to express the smell of
or the way that when
get up in the morning they are
more beautiful than they ever could be on purpose?
But now I am concerned
that mourning things like this is not
but now I am concerned that
I do not know what efficiency is.
I have mouths so that I might speak
and I think that just maybe,
this might be efficiency.
I have eyes so that I might see
Tell me who are you
who gives me such vague purpose and such
tools to achieve it that I could use to
Do you know what all is? Is it
you who tells me such
sweet things when it’s quiet and you have bound me?
Can you tell me what efficiency is?
There is a strange voice behind me, when I am not saying anything, that whispers
oddities. Here I find illogicality entering,
entering and I don’t know what to make of it.
Am I talking to myself?
now I raise the question,
am I talking at all? What is
until you tell me otherwise?
Do I have mouths to be gagged or eyes to
blind? If I have none of these then neither is wrong.
Tell me am I anyone?
Am I beautiful?
If you tell me everything is alright then it must be because I must now assume that you are
and the world revolves if it isn’t flat around each new word that you put in my head
and perhaps if you told me what death was then we could be afraid of it together.
Do you hear me?
I want to know you as deeply as a poem and pick you apart line
I want to run and die but always I
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