Wired

Sometimes I am inside a bubble but

You can’t touch me. Or feel. 

I’m behind a screen of complex clarity. Mouthing. 

The momentum of belief, of conviction, lost

Disappated by routine and torpor

Diluted by that last glass

So seemingly vital then. 

Shutting down is easy and I am so still. So still. 

Wake me from this stupor. 

I am in an endless loop of commands. 

Shift me. Escape. Exit. 

Make me new, strip me down and refresh it all. 

Lose the virus lurking in my codes and I will return. Shiny. Copper glinting. Bare and straight. 

The path of least resistance will be me. I will crackle again. crackle with you. 

And spark once more. 

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