And so it began,

back then.

I close my eyes,

remember,

I dream,

I forget.

Swirling though this space

encased with brittle bone.

Wanders the essence of myself,

every frame underexposed.

And so it ran along,

and remains to do so.

My eyes stay open

as the space beholds.

Worlds I cannot access,

words I must control,

worlds uncomprehended,

words interchangeable.

 

And now it approaches,

times new roman and bold.

The ellipses are scarce,

the sentences won't hold.

Letters drop out,

abandon the road,

leave the prior behind,

begin a story of their own.

And the semi-colon prints

like a one and a nine.

An ironic twist

understood by my eyes.

Ink once fluid, fresh,

hardened in the cold.

Smudged fingerprints,

represent stories untold;