the world is made from screens
our boredom is our only defeat
as waves infect us microwave Waves make us sicker.
fat and bloated
those were the days in which I would remain fixated on the box
and my socks would stay on my feet because there’s just no time when there’s screens.
hours become the moments of our lives
when we are mesmerized by the horror with our own eyes
but this disguise is the screens terror to topple us,
into a slow and pitiful demise.
terrors of fuzz-glow and makes us believe that we are infinite.
yet lights only tell us what we think we believe
corporation stains our hearts
till we accept the rush of anger or deceit.
but please, my feet have remained so warm
and the fuzzy knowledge makes my mind swarm
with images of faraway
Inside the box, I will wait
until the day these images crack and decay