Muted

People are yelling.

Their thoughts projected loudly,

pushed through hot air through megaphone mouths.

Clambering over

each convinced of self importance—

their wisdom world-changing, mind-blowing,

and yet, so mundane, so irrelevant.

The constant clicking, scrolling ever downwards,

down, down, drown yourself in meaninglessness.

There isn’t a single sentence not yet formed, not yet

been spewed out of the lips, a desperate

starvation for originality.

I so wish

to drain my head of thoughts

to know

nothing.