Two inches from my face, a metallic screen. If only it shone. It stares back at me. If only a filter, I’d reshape and edit. I can’t look away, I’m full of it or gutted.
Stupid screen, nonfunctional screen. Debase and dissect, yelling, “AH-HA, defective piece!” To make me feel I can’t function a part of the machine. Smash windows and TVs, stop following me!
My heart scares to face the flame that burns all inward, sets of the phases.
I burst out the door. I want escape. In my hull and my heels, cross the bridge to the lake.
Another? Not another! I look away, the look back. A fish nibbles my nose. Seaweed plays as my stache. Pebbles wrinkle my skin into circles. Connect 4! A white seagull dives in and my image ripples.