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Litter grew around us,
teeth gritted in impatience
for the filthy fruit
of our consumption,
that is transported from beyond
the individualist's horizon.

Your universe hates you when the lights are off, shutting its eyes to your waking, and all those words you bring to life as you read from pages that appear as you turn them.
Anaesthesia dissolves the teeth leaving you with mysterious bite marks and bitter amnesia, it clouds the resolve of your blinkers and your mirrored walls.
Echoes of outside draw its fingernails across chalk boards of yet to learn lessons, coughing up childhood traumas of empathy. They drain opaque from your worldview and leave you with the monsters, and the monstrous landfill skyline that scowls at your children's future.
Yet beyond that refuse view there are leaves with the colours of depth. There is living matter never to be synthesised, and mass produced. There is an oceans of faces, ever changing and unrepeatable faces.
Individualism is a cage from freedom of the oth…