Sometimes it calls out to me
Like a siren, only I can hear, across space and terrain
as an endless ocean
Echoing against the cosmos
Sometimes their pitiful moans haunt me
Crying out in agony, like bodies slumped over the wreckage
That I have caused them
From their extraction and vivisection
Sometimes I have these dreams, right before I wake
Where things seem familiar in a way that I know isn’t real.
And it echoes against the cold logic of reality
All day, perplexingly
Sometimes I forget to keep my weapons sharp
I feel it in the bones of my hands, old gears that I wish I could grease
In the practiced places that always feel like picking myself back up.
From the earth that never fails to catch me.
