the haze

The whites of my eyes glow green upon the sight.
Flashing bright and Lighting the path for a solid landing.
Watching the prism fade in and out.
The sight drowns out the sounds.

Moans and groans.
lips held tight.
clenched high with all the might my hands can muster.

Mister, mister. Sitting in your chair.
Watching me walk. Judging me with the rest of my technological sisters.
What would you say if you understood the face.

Frustration. Anxiety. Complacence. envy.
The nerves of a worn woman, long lost in this maze of haze.
Ostracizing startes of millions.

I want to take no part in progress.
I want to walk along and enjoy the beauty that is real. The beauty that hasn't been destroyed.
The beauty that is not produced by the fast typing fingers of many.

I want the long weathered hands of a creator. The wrinkles of a thinker. The smile of soul, full of energy and being.

All I've got are these bright green lights.
A reminder.
Contributing to the blindness.
Living numb.
I would rather stare into the sun than embrace what I am expected to become.