We are always vulnerable,

an uncertain fragile mess,

secretly fearful

beneath the neat and civilised

order of appearance

that we carry like the

metal of a cyborg on display.


And the truth

(if we are to be honest)

about what we feel,

in this hive of regularity

that we call life,

is that we want to say,

“Fuck it all! I don’t want

this shit anymore!”