echo chamber collapse

1.

it's not the words
rumbling from canyons
with big ominous vowels
huffing like ether
the scent of breaths
swirling with sounds

it's the delivery
how they touch the sky
grabbing the clouds
drawing faces and flowers
painted brightly

it's the cages
filled with birds
shooting feathers
off their wings

bloodied and brandished
beaks broken

it's the birds that can't sing
too long absconded
in the darkness

it is the mountains
and the roaring waterfalls
off in the distance

there was a moment
when I stared at the night sky
in quiet resolve:
I chose against suicide
thinking it meant chosing life

that difference, however,
defines every last motion
drifting into the great horizon

resistence is everything
as birds sing to empty skies
wind rushes over old trees

I wait for the songs to stop
the wind to fade away

2.

meaning is transitive
each conventional moment
becomes full and vanishes

the ecstasy of extremity
grants some immediacy
then returns to absurdity

is it worth it to say

"I felt you"

whoever you are