i have been taken over by nihilist thieves and a body that doesn’t want to work anymore.
they cut all of the strings
that make body appendages flex and relax
except the neural sort
and are left with what
we hate us.
how to build with the driest sand.
they told me that they don’t believe in ghosts
but they do believe in energy
and it’s transmission from objects
that souls might just be fields of electricity
and that feels right
what if my energy has been transmitted
before organic death.
onto what? where would it go?
someone tell me what to do
because my head is buried in a foxhole
and this isn’t the kind of shelter i was thinking of
if nothing changes
what do i make of the contradiction that nothing stays the same?
how could i fear cycles or temporality or death
at the same time dread this fixed consistency
i don’t even get to be in control of my body’s response to decay
and yet people move forward.
people find and create movement to follow or steer.
am i just ungrateful
am i bad–
a child that lost a puppy
openly weeping at a dead dream.