Dollhouse | A Poem

 

What mind heard me whisper that I wanted to be awake?  /  Me creeping away down the many halls  /  brushing the thresholds of every portal door  /  leading to the address of any number of possible lives  /  I'm surrounded with the great vastness of inexhaustible ideas  /  and yet the only ones I hear are yours  /  jumbled together  /  violent cacophony of sound bites  /  trickling through bleeding ears coalescing themselves as the fragile case of childhood memorabilia I didn't ask for  /  but I still carry it all the same / these harvested quotations  /  nothing more than highlighted sentences  /  signage alerting me of the volatile dead end that I cannot see  /  I rushed through every day  /  I flung scat like crass tools  /  hoping something I wielded might stick given enough directed umph to it  /  I came to the realization that this is not a maze  /  never was a maze  /  all paved ideals reach the same destination  /  call it predestination  /  call it destiny  /  call it whatever the hell you wish  /  you cannot outrun nature and her violent course plotted for us  /  chase the highs of orgasmic intoxication  /  feel the emotional fallout of abandoned desire  /  we both come to the same conclusory substances  /  in the end, we live in a bubble of our own selfish exchanges  /  penning the integral biographies of our lives with each new dawn  /  we whisper in diaries subtle motivations attempting to breathe life into the mundane  /  but we know this will not force the inevitable future to abstain from its demands  /  there are gargoyles inside our doll house watching us fuck  /  and in the midst of power outages and the dopamine shivers I imagine they're laughing.