it is infantile
to sit and imagine sweet candy lands and utopian communities
history reveals the grind of the human machine
there is no sugar and lavender pressed from these roots
blood and bitters
so-
we have the numbing of AI
the drumming of silence in the waves of the internet
our make-believe village
where we say what we want and our hearts and hatred spews
in infantile rage
it is infantile
put away childish things
i am the butterfly and the butterfly is me.

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