I despair as a writer
when I think
that conversation,
the spark of humanity,
our golden embroidery
on life,

is unremarkable.

these days,
voices are
shallow melodies
with accents
on repeat:

I want you to listen
and believe,

but who really knows?

or is distinguishing
the repackaged
plagues of similar beliefs.
The differences
are basically the same
and it's time consuming
to critically think.

So exhausting

to feel
like I must hurry
to get a point across
before the nodding
glance to the black screen,

relieved of wondering:

Have you been listening
at ALL to my word
drawings and logic trees
derived from headlines,
videos, and abstract
malcontent?

I'm learning to be quiet,
or dramatic.

Nothing in between

but revising
a philosopher's tractatus:

Whereof one cannot speak,
One should remain silen..salient.