you ache to sing
with human breathiness,
but no matter what
it comes out your burning throat
sounding like an electronic beep

the tears glitch as they fall out of your glassy eyes and crackle into your hands
you feel your atoms being muted, you are unable to show anyone your pain

soon it will be  12:29  
and you will hang suspended in glimmering darkness
the clocks miles below you will stop ticking
and if there is not a glitch you will drift up,
up into the pixelated clouds.
your atoms will malfunction and you will   power down
  
1:00 a.m and the remaining atoms, rusted and malfunctioning after centuries of use, copy and paste themselves just like they were programmed to do into a small body

a baby's eyes, a bright neon green just like the grass billowing in the world outside (except the most recent code was wrong, so they stand straight up, as tall and pointed as the remains of the skyscrapers)
blink open for the first time, awash in the colors and sudden coldness of the world

she opens her mouth and cries out a long electronic beep, echoing the machines that transferred her from the darkness.
the atoms swaddle her like they were programmed to do, soft and silky. the glitch will come later, when they tear at the seams and begin to accumulate their thousand-year rust.

In the years to come, she will envy the ones with fresh atoms and clear coding.

she will ask the important questions: on the best days with the soft electronic trill or contemplation,
and on the worst ones,
her remaining emotions struggling to conquer the coding,
the humanity in her pushing through walls and making her head spin
crying and fighting to be her own and not the creator's
her mind will fizzle until it explodes with emotion and her bones will snap (pain wasn't in the programming)
she will hear her voice for one of the only times in her life:
(i am dying and
fizzling away
in the cold and uncaring coding,
in the hollow wiring,
twisting the world into idyllic phrases:
copy. paste. save. delete. )
and this glitch wasn't meant to happen, these words may sparkle in the golden depths of you
and they may float in the burning remnants of your mind
but they were not in the blueprint.  

you can feel your feeling slowly dissolving,
flickering, slowly the buzz of the programming will drown every once of your humanity
one by
one
by one

another nihilistic overture,
for the impending hedonism
a callous cacophony
looks to be rather innocuous,
a brazen haze
of a lifestyle,
every night
a bohemian escapade,
thought we came far away
past life abandoned
that felt austere
yet salubrious,
this air reeks of dystopia
such a rootless feeling
keeps me riding
the nomadic hound,
a desolate heart
in a victorian home,
all around I see
empty eyes
and wretched souls,
need a shining light
for the start of something beautiful,
before the world crumbles down
fueled by fattening greed,
trees fall to the hatchet
realizing a dismal trepidation,
the fear of a blank planet.

Work? Still permitted.
If you’re still employed, that is.
Your windows are grey?
Just paint another rainbow.
Clap again if you fancy

'2+2=3'
Go, on say it
Aren't you free?
You must be free.
Your Loving Leader
orders you to be

Love is hate
Hate is love
Whatever He says
Is the reality

'We good, they bad'
'We good, they bad'
'We good, they bad'
Repeat after me

What do you mean
'Yesterday you said a different thing'
I said nothing
You know nothing
This is the first time you're hearing me speak

All prostrate before our great, good leader
Magnificent, omniscient, transcendent leader
He never killed any except
His enemy

He can do no wrong
He sees us all
He loves us all
So he kills them all
It's only for
our benefit

What do you mean
'He's not giving us food'
Come on mate
Don't be silly
You've been fed
4 time today
You just couldn't
Understand it
He's done more good
Than anyone
Before in history

Whatever he says
Is reality
He can alter
History

What do you mean
'He's a dictator'
Don't you remember
You chose him
Democratically

You're free
Say anything
Do anything
Except anything
Improper to Him

We are all equal
He's just more equal
Help him create
The perfect society

"Art" that's evil
"Sports" don't bother
"Science" oh brother
Why do believe in such fantasies
Just follow Him
He'll lead you the promised land
Understand?

'Those men, over there
They are the devils'
You say they're good
No they are not
Now you are irritating Him
We must teach you a lesson
Surrender to Our Leader
He calls you tomorrow
Go, don't be afraid
He won't hurt
He'll just proselyte you lovingly
Oh, those machines of torture
Don't be afraid
THEY ARE JUST FOR YOUR BENEFIT

Today,
At the 19th hour 8th minute and second 4th
We'll have a meeting
To celebrate
His Highness
Don't be late
NOT A SECOND LATE

You wouldn't want to anger Him
Or he'll vaporize you
Lovingly

What remains in the aftermath of love?

As streets are built without sidewalks
As neighborhoods no longer have use for streetlights

As parks and sunsets turn into myths
As the stories of lies and deceit become the only nursery rhymes we pass on

As *** becomes as mundane as eating bread
And ****** become larger and more frequent than church communions

As ***** become cheaper than blood

As faces become so interchangeable they're impossible to remember
And names turn into secrets

What remains?
When everywhere is no man's land

When childbearing is just a rare, yet escapable punishment from God

When children migrate in swarms between families like birds escaping winter

When love is just but a militarized weapon used for enslavement

When humanity is emancipated from their emotions

Shall we celebrate our independence by clearing our contacts list and changing numbers?

Shall we start each new year by picking a new stranger to stave off our hunger for the night

When we stone those who learned each other's middle names

When we lock away anyone greedy enough to keep someone to themselves
And the married are sent to live in the madhouse

When the war of love have ended
And no one's heart returns home

What remains?

Pigment caked under my nails.
Tasting the metallic remnants of a lost childhood.
The reality is hidden in visions and supposed dreams.
Fed to me, was the comforting hugs of mother and soothing lies.
Grew up in the age of paid horror.

A new appendage is cheaper than keeping the original.
Marked by the price of my body.
Each fall, subtracting, each workout, adding.
Beauty is a curse nowadays.
Each beautiful child is raised and sold for millions.
Each ugly child prays to be one of the lucky to receive the new parts.

Greedy families hope for attractive offspring,
to disassemble for a new future.
A pair of brilliant green eyes can change your luck.
Having blue eyes guarantees you to be blind.
Leaving you with shades to cover the hollow left behind.

Adults will tell you sports lead to a promising future.
But they don’t tell you that it’ll lead you to losing your body.
Self-harm is a death sentence. A cut drops your value.
It forces you into the career of taking.       Taking the beauty from the beautiful.
Cutting a limb or two won’t hurt them. Taking an eye is just life.
Tell yourself they should know better. They should’ve expected it.
Expect the unexpected when you are beautiful. Expect a life of pain.
Expect misery and lose those emotions when you are ugly. You won’t need that conscience.

Forget about the forgotten already. Use that arm to grab a new leg.
Use your head to get a better one.
Use your emptiness to end others. They won’t need that life.
And don’t forget, to use your misery.
The more miserable you are, the better off the world is when you end it.

What is reality?
What is theory?

Sometimes four
Sometimes five

Sometimes both
Of them at once

Control the future
By controlling the past

Listen here, Oceania
War is peace

First, we'll give everything its due
Then say it never happened

Again and again
Until you believe it's true

I woke up this morning in an orange dystopian world. An eerie darkness filled the room as a faint rusty glow bled through the blinds. Profound silence swept the streets and with it all forms of life vanished. My breath and the beat of my heart were the only things that reassured my existence. A viscosity that of molasses filled the air weighing down gravity itself, or at least it felt like it, as my body lethargically swam back towards the dark depths of the room. The curiosity within me sought external perspective so I dialed into the digital realm. What followed was disheartening to say the least. People from all over questioning if this was the end so nonchalantly, exposing the desolation that’s taken their lives hostage. I ask myself, how is it that we are so quick to **** ourselves? How is it that we’ve grown incredibly numb in a state of great psychological stress? I ask as the answer stares me in the face. Optical dopamine beaming into my cornea penetrating parts of me I thought only I had access too. Altered genetic code, altered state of mind, altered fabric of space and time, altered reality.

Still, I cling on to the utopian beliefs that veil my unwavering optimistic heart... and I pray.