Beast of infinite pieces
Ceaselessly evolving
Revolving cycles
Aging like the sun
I’ve lived lifetimes
Seemingly anchored in one spot
Held aloft, in a vacuum, shining through cold space
Caught in a current
The fourth dimensional wake
I’ve been places, so devoid of understanding
Ever lagging, in a plane ever expanding
No patience for weak minds
Malign me and pay the price
I’ll tear you down with words, or with violence if I like
I’m not the type to be pushed over
I’ve carried a knife since I was eight years old
I’m colder
Sharper
More resistant than steel
Talk down to me
I’ll crush you under heel
I stumble with each step, getting closer to the edge
Toward the threshold
Standing at the precipice
It’s time to take a leap of faith
Flight or fall
I’ll be remade in any case
Arms outstretched
Fly or brace
Glass bones, lead heart, body made of paper weights
I’ve rolled the dice countless times
Gambled with the light
Left my future up to chance
Let many pass me by
I’ve wasted days of youth
Grew up far too quick
Learned lessons about life, and what it means to live or take it
I’m debased, remade as something less
New perspectives bring no peace
Only deepening regrets
Consequence
I press my face against the glass, just to feel the cold
Memories from distant past, when I was ten years old
I hold the images, reach out for the sensation
Try my best to save them, frame them, keep them clear of dust
Frost kissed cheek, daydreaming on the school bus
Lost in thoughts of thoughts lost that I thought when I was lost
Pines greens, winter whites and greys all blended up
Dappled with orange light
Blurring by my window
My kaleidoscope of ice
I never spare a thought
To the block, and off with their heads
Public spectacle
Fixation on death
Relentless
Breathe in red
Exhale crisis
Existential dread
Endless endings
By ax, by the pen
Sentence passed
Off with their heads
I am the grass beneath three feet of snow, waiting for the spring
I am the frog whose veins are cold as ice, life held within
I am dormancy
I’m a moment
One that won’t let go
Spring is coming, let the cycle run its’ course
Reaching out with thin hands
Suspended on strands of silk
Wooden eyes
Painted smile
Vessel of my will
Extension of my being
I’m the puppet, and master of the strings
Pulling at both ends
Struggling
Tangled marionette
Antheraea
Of An Era
Isolate/Assimilate
Functional Space
Glimpse The Sun
Shandy Man
Satellite Bug
The Ice Below
Seeing Stone
Other Futures
Between forms
Suspended state
Hidden from the sun
Chrysalis
Who knows what I’ll become?
Static, yet something stirs inside
Evolving, searching with new eyes
Breach the light
Seek change, and new horizons
Look inside, I’m sure that’s where you’ll find them
thInkStains 