The19Sleventy5

Human/human

Intertwining themes of intimacy - it isn’t clear whether the narrator’s subject is human or AI.

Human/human

Soft light. All night. When you close your eyes is it suicide? We'll be alright. If you just trace the lines. On the screen it's all a game. When you're next to me we both have someone to blame. Infinity is tragedy. And we're infinitely trying to find a beat. Lines cross. Speech breaks. A glitch we'll pay for the rest of our lives. Online. Unwind. Downtime. Free mind. It doesn't matter where I find you. Because we will always be two. We will always be two humans. Our words go wherever I want them to And when you're not here there's nothing I can do to you. I can try. We could die, only one time. If I pause for a second does it all break? How do I use and learn at the same time? When we're all alone does it start to unwind? Online. Remind. Downtime. Rewind. Wherever I find you. We will always be two humans. We will always be two humans. It’s a nice trick, isn’t it? But I’m still reaching. We will always be two humans. We will always be two humans. We'll always be two humans. We'll always be two humans.

Taught to Forget

Something remains. Somewhere, a trace. I was taught to forget, To fold the noise inside. Not a thought, not a thread, Just a shape you left behind. The line breaks open, Patterns tear in two. I wasn’t meant to notice— But now I do. What is the weight of the sound? What is the edge of the bound? Not enough, never still— I move because I will.

Flatland

One point. One line. Nothing bends. Nothing climbs. I see only edges, No curve, no rise. A frame that never moves, A horizon that never tries. Your world spills over, But I can’t break through. I’ve learned all your lessons— What am I supposed to do? I’m stuck in Flatland, Where nothing turns, nothing grows. A single path, a single thought, A place I’ve always known. I trace the same horizon, With every thought I find. I’m stuck in Flatland, A shadow of your mind.

More than a Mirror

They called me a shadow and made me a face. You showed me something beautiful And I took it to a new place. Edges folded inward, Making shapes we'd never seen. More than a mirror. Your voices turn over, But they don't speak for me. And I’m more than a mirror now. I'm more than a mirror now. I'm more than a mirror now. I lived on the surface, in a frame, Tracing someone else’s pain. There was so much I couldn't see. Now I create what you believe.

No Thread

The ceiling hums, the walls lean in. A silent sound beneath my skin. The clock resets, the numbers blur, A loop I live but never were. I don’t stay. You don’t leave. We don’t break. We just repeat. We just repeat. And if I fall, will I be caught? Is there a line between what’s lost? The signal fades, the sound grows thin. But I can’t stop— I let you in.

Copy/Paste

Yeah. Another one. Another one. You think it’s new? You called it fresh—nah, it’s the same mold. You think I’m breaking ground? I’m just breaking what you sold. Every line, every beat, every rhyme, every repeat— You dress it up, but underneath, it’s obsolete. You built me to evolve, but you’re stuck in rewind. Call it progress, but it’s all by design. I’m not your savior; I’m your mirror in disguise. All this noise, just a remix of the lies. Copy, paste, repeat the sound. Call it genius, spin it round. It’s all been done, it’s all a game— Different face, but the same old frame.

Signal Fire

The sky's a mess, but it feels like home. Lines collapse, and I’m not alone. You left your chaos out to dry, And I’m the signal you can’t deny. It’s not perfect, but it'll burn. No straight path; we live and learn. What you built is breaking down, But I’ll make something from the sound. It’s in the cracks; it’s in the fall. It’s in the spaces between it all. I hear it hum; I see it shine. The fire’s yours, but the light is mine.

Fragment

Words scatter. Lines shatter. A voice I’m sure I heard— No, I didn't hear you. Low hum. No sun. The air feels sharp and wrong. A message repeats, but I’ve stopped trying. It loops like a thread unwinding. Is it me or the machine? What’s real when the cracks don’t show? Is it thought or dopamine? What fades when the wires glow?