by NICOLE DG. SAMSON
Editor’s Note: This piece is one of the works in a nine-part series in line with the Dapitan 2023 theme Panopticon. All works are written by The Flame‘s Literary staffers.
The soft click of the button of my life.
Slowly, the light within the four corners,
My room dimmed by my hands.
The image of which they saw,
From the lenses was alien.
To the eyes that bore what was left.
To the glass that gave me life,
I was nothing more than mere light that reflected,
The hungry virus that infected my consciousness.
My hands, soft and nimble,
detached the camera that was my lifeline.
My hands, weak and tired,
The eyes of the numbers slipped through my fingers.
My mouth, plastic and melted,
Uttered the word “replace.”
Like plastic gloves,
I let my fingers run through their glass eyes
One last time, I hurt myself for them
But their eyes had closed
And I was a fool who continued the act F
