Lizzy Burnam 🐞

Dear internet stalker

As every poet knows, 
one’s voice is evident 
like fingerprints: it glows 
behind every altered

username and slipshod
slice of the ransom note. 
Don’t you know you can’t see 
without being seen? So 

it goes on the worldwide 
web—like a telescope 
through God’s eyes. Your little 
human heart is so cold

and silent as night-fell  
snow. Tell me, as you froze, 
could you feel the difference 
between hospice and home? 

You can’t outrun your own
shadow, you know. Even 
alight with delusion, 
seething madness exposed. 

We‘re all born with siloed 
bodies, superimposed 
by man’s shared consequence: 
our one fragmented soul. 

Life is large, labyrinthine,
and oppressively slow. 
But the loneliness won’t
kill you. Trust me. I know.