Puppeteered

Black is more than it is
Knock knock, knock knock
My eyes come on like this
Flick flick, flickering, flick

The rusty hinges of the door tinges
The lights born again with a click
The lights dance with a pack of glitches
But there i still sit, still as a stick

Nothing to noticeably notion
Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick
So long have i given no emotion
Knock knock, knock knock

I feel a rush up my spine
In my gut a spike lay
So i use my hand to feel my side
Hoping this pain would be a listless lie

My hands without feeling, pain without meaning
Stillness well kept, static in the air
Murmuring mumbles with a seamless tear
Darkness held with no candle burning
Forever ably yearning