That quiet hum, a buzz, always there
in the background, asking if i notice
forever asking, probing, nudging
grabbing at straws, pulling the loose thread
one line of fabric at a time
I see the weave as it was before being made
imagine a million tiny hands
pushing the miniature thread
back and forth, to make the plain fabric
that holds it all together
It is strong when built
one tug and it can all unravel
who chose the colour it was dyed in
to cover the plain, and obvious
white, clean, pulled from its birth
i can still hear the buzz the familiar noise
there it seems forever, even after the fall
Its like the noise would follow
you can pretend you don't hear it
it lingers yet
you feel like it would be a welcome distraction
at some other time
when you are not in the middle of it
you've played into the distraction
it has been the whole plan for you
to buy it, to feed it
white noise in the atmosphere
you can only deny it so long
but how do i turn it off?
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