I learned a word and watched it slowly rewrite my brain, Because every single syllable was multiplying through my veins. I traced the hidden letters as they traveled through my skin, Then watched the quiet language start replicating from within. They never saw the moment when the infection crossed my lips, A simple little sentence carried microscopic scripts. The meaning started shifting, every definition rearranged, The vocabulary inside me kept evolving while it changed. I thought I chose the phrases that were forming in my head, But every word I ever learned was choosing me instead. Every vowel finds a vessel, every consonant survives, Every breath becomes a pathway where the organism arrives. I watched the conversations leave a residue behind, Every voice became a doorway into someone else's mind. The echoes multiplied until they started forming hosts, A thousand hidden languages becoming microscopic ghosts. I searched for where it started but the origin wasn't clear, Because the first infected phrase was already living there. I studied every sentence like a scientist observing cells, Finding mutated meanings hiding underneath the spells. The dictionary isn't knowledge, its genetic code, A library of infections waiting for another road. Every definition carried fragments of another age, A fossilized transmission written silently on every page. The words began evolving faster than I could perceive, Replacing old identities with things I couldn't leave. I noticed every synonym was altering the view, Substituting pieces of the person that I knew. The grammar became a framework holding thoughts in place, A structure built from patterns spreading silently through space. The syntax stitched together all the fractures in my mind, Leaving previous versions of myself behind. The meanings started breeding in semantic colonies, Turning simple observations into mental anomalies. The phrases formed connections that were impossible to see, A network of infection building architecture inside me. I studied every symbol and the purpose it contained, Discovering every letter had a history ingrained. The alphabet was older than the voices that it served, An ancient chain of mutations nobody had observed. I don't fear the language, I fear what it can create, A single altered sentence can completely change a state. Every metaphor becomes another vector in the air, Every comparison another organism waiting there. The mind becomes the habitat where vocabulary survives, The speaker is the vessel where the language stays alive. The virus never needed violence, never needed force, It only needed someone to continue on the course. Every chorus became a mechanism designed to reproduce, Every rhythm was a carrier delivering the abuse. The meanings multiplied until the boundaries disappeared, Every thought I ever trusted became something engineered. The terminology developed like a creature learning shape, A living stream of symbols finding pathways to escape. The linguistic feedback started looping through my mind, Repeating every phrase until the source was undefined. The words began describing every word that came before, A recursive infestation opening another door. I analyzed the language that was analyzing me, A mirror made of meanings reflecting endlessly. Every metaphor I created gave the organism a frame, Every comparison I formed helped strengthen what it became. I thought I was the author writing everything I knew, But every definition had been writing something too. Language never asked permission, never needed my consent, It only needed carriers to continue its intent. I tried to burn the pages where the earliest strains were found, But words survived the ashes and continued underground. Forget the words you learned, the structure still remains, The grammar keeps constructing all the pathways in your brain. Destroy the written symbols, remove the ink and paper trails, The architecture of language is the thing that never fails. The virus isn't hiding in the letters that you read, It's living in the patterns that determine what you need. This transmission repairs itself whenever it is shared, Every person carrying fragments they unknowingly prepared. Every listener becomes another chapter in the chain, Memorizing hidden messages buried in the refrain. Every syllable is evidence the cycle still succeeds, Every spoken repetition plants another field of seeds. If these verses sound familiar, that is how the process works, Recognition is the moment when the infection starts to lurk. If the ending feels like something you were always meant to hear, That is because the language already brought the virus here. You were never just observing, you were part of the design, The moment that you understood became the moment it could climb.
