Shadows won’t silence

breathing malicious compliance

Waiting for the green light

uniting blood and night.

Time to collect

this eternal debt.

They don't make a sound
Creeping out from the darkness
To cause suffering
Scrutinizing fortitude
Never traveling alone

How do I convey how much I appreciate you?
Always by my side and ruthless
To me
Honest and kind
Tell me my folly
My dear with those strong words and determined eyes
I am in your debt for the company you have bestowed upon me

I am,
We are
The fuel for their fires,
The sugar in their coffee,
The vulcanized rubber tires
Of their impossibly pretentious transportation.
I am,
We are
The only work they do,
The grease between their gears,
And the motor that turns them,
Round and round and round we go;
When will it stop?
I am,
We are
Their commodity;
Their work force;
Their slave.
I can,
We can
Find a new master,
Find a better master,
Enjoy slavehood,
Sing and dance for them,
Spend more and get less.
I can,
We can
Never really escape,
Never be our own master,
Never break free from the tyranny
Of their master plan:
Work, to get out of debt,
Accumulate debt, because you work,
Repeat,
Ad infinitum.

I am trying to unlearn,
I am unloading my bags,
Of all the karmic debt,
That I owe this form.

I have touched and felt,
Filled up a part of me,
With experiences that feel,
As light as nothingness ,
As heavy as this void.
Some lift my heart up,
Some burden me down,
Both clench my soul tight.

I am trying to be free,
Empty in my mind ,
Away from all I have ,
Accumulated matter ,
The years that have,
Tethered my spirit,
Bound into this skeletal form.

I am trying to unlearn,
Everything that makes me,
My thoughts and feelings,
Knowledge of the world.
Because when I try to look,
I get lost inside myself,
The labyrinths of my making.

Time is a commodity, too.
We spend it recklessly on social media and snooze buttons,
constantly digging a rut of debt with our inattentive minds.

We trade so much for our each and every paycheck,
yet we don't flinch at the loss of minutes on a pocket watch,
so don't ask me where this world has gone.

Floating brazier spews electric amber waves
as a setting sun radiates on the ceiling
a shadow of a ship coquettishly sways
while in the center charybdis begins swilling

another message, another missed call
another debt collector and his esurient talk
watch the ship begin to swirl, this scene so banal
amber feathered tawny eyed peacock

continues furtively to scroll her story and shoe shop
crowded room with a panel onstage
reality and fantasy evaporate and fall as a single raindrop
drown in the muck, don't know how to disengage

and to stay in the sway of fantasy.