the despair born out of these translucent weeks
books and song and knowledge
have no power in this illuminated haze
running my hands along walls
polished and leading nowhere

confined to this immaculate cell
like those nordic prisons
that you don't even want to leave
the comfort of captivity
ringing in my ear like an audible parasite

the city is no better
ghostly faces just like mine
but what hides in their eyes
is a tyranny that they will never know
the hateful foundation of success

but in the real world i stick out
my naïve face and pampered body
deserved condescension
i cannot know these people
because of what my people have done

drifting through the vacuum
too far from the power of attraction
cosmic bodies cling to each other
and i thrash and struggle
while the omniscient nothing engulfs me