Eye Contact

Somebody just said "Hannah, do ya already have a man? Cause I'm smooth like Carlos Santana." Well here we go boy, just crank it up. Are you the boy, the boy, the boy, the honest truth, the real McCoy.

Vision curtained by the unforgiving behemoth.

In a blink, the dark swallows all light.

The farewell of light makes sight impoverished,

And drives the black vacuum to send new songs to my ears.

Chatter bleeding, select sentences sharp.

Void of precision creating automatic inferences,

Which let me formulate my strongest and most absolutely corrupt placement.

Shameful presentation.

Trolls in my head, teetering judgement, teetering impulse.

Oblivious controversy caused by my self-denied lonesome.

Malignant beasts spawned by faulty perception of peer interaction.

The fingernails of normalcy that I never knew.

What is put on purposely destroys easy ambitions,

Ones that may have had used value.

There is no family to this species,

And I cannot see the cells.

And now, lost.

Lost in one respect, unsure that I am found in the other.

For lost swallows found, like darkness swallows the light,

And just as when I close my eyes, 

My precision is voided,

Being lost directly opposes precision.

And automatic inferences are launched into unmistakable existence.

Right or wrong, these inferences,

Are why I close my eyes.

And the circle sprouts another head, linking ideas, chain created.

The nonsense, for which trivial earthly reasons,

I dedicate my single-pronged, chain-forming, thankful, and happily rooted being.

Author's Note

Somebody just said "Hannah, do ya already have a man? Cause I'm smooth like Carlos Santana." Well here we go boy, just crank it up. Are you the boy, the boy, the boy, the honest truth, the real McCoy.