Glitches

I see glitches in the matrix

My user-interface is falling apart

I can see the intentions behind appearances

Even those that bind me to you, sweetheart.

I must walk the line between truth and illusion

It’s infinitely fine and defined by confusion

So onwards I stray,

On feet of clay,

With You to guide my way.

Sometimes I wish I could abandon these feet, and fly away

But they ground me, and perhaps that’s more important today.

Because,

I’m locked in a force field,

Forced to feel

And if reality is what’s normal

Then I’m not real.

They want me to ashen

They say it’s our purest form

But I’m happy here in my prison of passion

There’s no way I could desire the norm.

I will only ashen when I burn out

And I’ll leave fertile soil, for love to sprout

But still this line reverberates unchecked:

‘If I let go of my “self”

Will I be saved

Or merely wrecked?’

Art: Yuri Shwedoff