joey k poetry

unreliable narrator
trust nothing.
all pretenses false.
all intentions malicious.

the words in your mind
tell truths and lies
indiscriminately
without rationality.

making sense of scale
or impact
or loneliness
was never
synaptically
encoded.

we are imperfect machines.

we are imperfect machines
reacting to sensory input.
we synthesize language, learning,
dependencies, discrepancies,
while processing more input than our
ancestors ever could have imagined.

our brains will screw up.

let them.

reality is subjective.
mood is subjective.

maybe
learning
to love it all
is possible.