Do You Know What Love Is? (a poem)

Tuesday, September 23, 2025

The mesh—
tying into everything,
even your enemies.
We are all having the conversation.
That’s for damn sure.

But what now?

Pseudo-events,
consent manufactured in filters—
thalamic disregulation,
cascades, spreadsheets,
the blue screen of death
stepping into my mind.

A worm buried
in invisible constructs,
corrupted, sunk deep.

I only want,
alongside the other,
to rot together.

I’m so sorry.