I. “A Story of Satisfaction Neural, Mindscape Murals, and the Bells that Outside Toll”

Shutting the first door in their wake, you are not satisfied,

So you drift to mindscape murals ‘til your needs are satisfied

You draw another door on the wall, borne from your mind,

Or from whispering guides who can teach you to be satisfied

Swirling in a delirium of cold electrical lights

Are the building blocks of worlds where you could be satisfied

What is real becomes unmade and rearranged in Your image —

Why toll the bells outside when you could be satisfied?

Take what you make. Remake what you take when the boundaries blur.

Bend physical reality so that your mental one is satisfied

Yet synchronicity between the converging Earth in sight

And the Sun that warms your dreamland in which you are satisfied

Is a feat with an undetermined threshold of possibility.

As dimensions warp, the conditions are not satisfied

To create such hyperbolic forms in Euclidean geometry,

To write into truth hyperboles that made you satisfied

The metaphysical is incompatible with the flutter of heartbeats.

The flesh vessel imprisons you; you are not satisfied

The bells toll inside too. It would be simpler, in the corners of a room,

To indulge in new designs, in which you are satisfied

Instead of bearing the burden of social dysmorphia,

Why not create an endless cage where you can be satisfied?

Inside, we can tune the bells to perfect pitch instead of falling flat

And everyone can love us, and we can all be satisfied

The musty air within these walls is stagnant. I fear

That when I tap the icon, you won’t be satisfied,

That you’ll shyly pretend you didn’t see my number calling,

That you’ll return to the stylized WebToon that makes you satisfied.

II. The Rain Gives Me the Future

The rain gives me many reasons to cry,

Absorbs my tears that flash-flooded your arms

Violet summer chemicals depart

Rushing waves roll and I feel paralyzed

Blue is the present act I must perform

Pensive moments touch and emptiness meets

My world, which remains in a state of sleep

Footprints lead to unlocked, impatient doors

My umbrella is spinning above me,

Vast enough to cover my heart for now

As I plow through the insistent deluge

My eyes glow through this twilight fog I breathe

Tromping through puddles, I open my mouth,

And give my future a wary salute.