you can't see yourself it's identity fog
All of your empty sacks that were once full
Of accumulated misnomers not one useful tool
The old pale facers look confused
Yours among them
Pay bleak, loose credit one third the value
some IT gig to cover rent and cookie
But no real line or thread to catch yourself
and serve your own mind
Yet all energy serves delusion
it's many legs running your world around
like a hypnotic rat wheel
relief in compulsive moments
Some invisible smile we reach for
finger tips touch thin air
want grows in stages
harvested from you with no return
quick swap
a bad deal but colorful
pumping false justice all over your face
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