Anxiety of Argos (Greek Mythology, Hera's servant, Argus Panoptes)

Anxiety of Argos


The man breathes wisps of vape smoke

Kinding the twitches

And thoughts that churn the covers in a teenage bed

Were the scent less bitter sweet of truth

Were the many eyes not needling the back of your skull

Clawing in the abyss of your mind

Would you not have turned?


To find a servant of the restless silence

To find Dear arabos whispering in your ear

Tainting the color in your eyes

With a heavy breath 

Plagued with unearthly words

Heaving in your lungs with a promise of 


Yet the lingering sugar sweet clouds

Are a slow agonizing fall

For the eyes are there

Pardon them today

But freedom is costly

And every anxiety craves a slave


This poem is about: 
Our world


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