Impaled

and again it stabs, a flickering flash like Macbeth’s floating dagger: invisible, hallucination, a silent pain. Like a nettle, a rose’s thorn, it twists and curdles into rotten barbed wire. It rests in your pockets sits in your palm, it vibrates on our tables and jolts us from an already fitful sleep. Influencing ones and zeros flood over bodies and seep into conversations, ooze across self-worth and cover mirrors - slow and unnoticed, impaling a society turned statue by an intangibly weighted media.