disconnect

I disconnect without meaning to. Forced to separate. Build my own shelter beyond the city gates. Count seven days. If you watch me from the comfort of your brick and mortar. Electric miracles. I'll never know. I take precaution and cover my secrets with blankets. I hide my flesh.

An imagined figure taps against me from the inside. Looking for attention. Knocking as if at a neighbors front door. I'm not sure we're friends. Ideas expand with no outlet. Pushing against the limits of my skull. Over the counter medications have no effect. I beg but. Though I yell. I cannot hear my voice about the knocking.

I trace. Your face. The space you fill. I race. Against a nameless enemy. I chase the numbers on the screen and work towards a faster pace. I tell you to drive safely. Just in case. My words have power.