untethered
uprooted
the soles of my feet
tingle from nothingness

the dry scrape of the air conditioner in seattle and
hardwood floors that hold no softness
city skyscape gleaming silver
a beacon to the
unmodernized less fortunate
of hope to become
automatons like us, to become more-than-human like us

untethered

what is human
we must be, i suppose, and yet -
if we are not 'what it means to be human'
if my heart is content in its coldness
is that wrong

i have betrayed - but - who?

to be untethered is to be true, to drift
from the solid shores of meaning is to fly and
to be free means to let the beautiful parts of yourself die and

I have made my decision.