spit, mixed with dirt – muddy words flow
Wired
Tied down
Listening in
Hear that?
It’s me
The inner most parts
Heart tones
Seeking out notes
Back-filling and tempo
Static and background noise
Wired
Pushing out from beneath my skin
My temples
Wrists
Lungs and heart
Electrodes
Observing
Whish-Whoosh, Whish-Whoosh
Listen long enough
You’ll hear tears welling
Spilling, sliding
Heart melting, cooling
Hard obsidian
Fingers tightening
Gripping sterile sheets
Wired
Electrical impulses
Kzzap-zapping along lines
Interrupted
What happens if we…..?
Lids flutter
Soundless scream
Back arches off the bed
Listen in
Try again
©️tara caribou – 2018
..at least that’s how *I* remember it….
livingforthemoon
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Writing and Whatnot
This is so powerful, it evoked such a visceral reaction within me. You took me back to ECT, which I will never do again.
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Oh damn! On the one hand, I’m sorry it took you to that place again but on the other I think it’s good to remember where we’ve been (as long as we don’t stay in that place too long).
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Yes, it’s okay that it did that. I was just yesterday having a conversation with my daughter about how the best art (in any format) makes us feel something.
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I absolutely agree.
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I really am in awe of your talent for expression. And that is the way I feel.
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Thank John. You’re always so kind.
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That is who I am. Open in expression.
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Now if that wasn’t cyberpunk, I don’t know what is. The melding of machine and flesh; hardware to impulses, perfectly interlaced. The setting and the sensation, fluttering in and out, in and out, flickering – perfect. There’s movement here, synapses firing as everything merges and rushes through available conduits, moving fast towards a crescendo and a climax.
Wonderful. Simply wonderful.
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Damn Spiral. Are our brains connected?? lol
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In a way, we are all connected.
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Haha. I know, I know.
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Enough delving into cyberpunk just solidifies the thought like nobody’s business.
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And yes, might just be 🙂
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