Begin.


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I think I'll start with this part.

The first line of the next line, the next line of the last line.
The next line of the lifeline is the timeline of the red vines.

Drawing lines in the sand in order to
slowly make sense of the world

finding out that I
was simply drawing a circle the whole time.

Not really thinking,
Lucidly dreaming
desperate fumblings in the dark,
losing control with punctuation and
enunciation.
some sort of exasperating struggle for
ecstasy. this indecisive part of me
wondering what could happen.

standing at the edge of the cliff
waiting for someone to push me off
so i don't have to
make my own decision

permanent marker cuts into ethereal thoughts
revising thoughts and refining thoughts
into machinery

Time is ticking
water is trickling
tumbling droplets wandering down
skin.

Raining, it's
for the first time I'm
drowning in puddles of
adulthood.
feeling the need to splash around but
realizing it's the ink spilled from a paper
left too long to ferment
into inspiration,
but not long enough to fester into desperation.

And then

enough!

of this exposition
to a grand opening of a curtain-called play
is that not what you wanted to say?
what i want
is a perfectly crafted denouement
spaced with black and white soliloquies
with a backdrop
of black and white lilies
floral patterns rearrange and
reassemble my heart.

Smiling, I
Bring the nighttime
Rolling in the cool colors of
Seclusion.
Strolling in the darkness with
My sunshine turned on.