A swirling cacophony of bitter tastes and angry sentiments
it stands to reason
that no one will ever feel like you do now
because memories as crisp
as sharp as these
only snap this well for you

this sea of drones, drab faces
wearing dull masks
they see nothing through those stylish, blank eyes
like sparkling, clear windows
of an empty whitewash room
with a locked door, key in hole
but no knob to pull it open

you scorn them openly
they’re too dim
to see through your profound fog of derision
when you poke knives at delicate places
grinning smartly as you often do
a bookmark pressed plaintively
between the pages of a shiny, new kafka under your arm
and you sneer as you open it
paying no heed to the sidelong glances
the eyebrow twitching, awkward shuffling

inflating with pride
as you lose altitude.