im living everyday inside a prism
the prism is my sentience
it exists somewhere else
but my body moves because of it
as a consequence of, perhaps my soul
the body needs to feed
and it feeds and drinks
a disgusting gluttonous scene
but the soul may not replenish
i live everyday inside my head
the prism i am speaking of
i see people and the world move
at times, ever so slowly
and sometimes, too fast to notice
i witness everything looking out
i cannot step into the world
for there is no aperture to transport me
i am stuck
stuck inside myself
i utter words
i command you to love me
but i cannot love you in return
i cannot touch the surface of your love
your "great work"
if you kiss the glass
there will be a beautiful stain
right there
right there were your lips touched
as i dream for them to touch mine