The camera watches me like a glinting steel eye.
Can it see me in this darkness? I suppose that is a rhetorical question. What use is surveillance if it can be avoided by the simple flick of a switch. I would not be surprised if every single camera in this house has the ability to see thebones beneath my guts if they needed to.
So, even as I lie snug between my sheets, I am not truly safe. Only the illusion permeates the air, fills it with a warmth that, as of late, has begun to feel a little too hollow for my liking. And so under the guise of innocent self-appreciation I craft that for which the camera is there to see.














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