maze

In the space between fingers there is matter growing, expanding, pushing. A rib cage serves as an abandoned home with overgrow greenery, the deepness of saturation offers a glimpse of pressure. Intensity. In the space within the skull there are thoughts unable to be tamed. The formless structure of the soul holds dreams, desires, and a destiny; slowly unfolding.
Time and space. And then... time, and space.
With each step, weight and weightless. Haze of reality. Sleeplessness. A lone wolf doesn't confide in the false comfort of the quiet company from its mind. There was once a belief that the end of the world wasn't so absurd... as long as true love was there to ground the surroundings of hearts in love. But how captivating is a life in love. Freedom in love? Freedom? In love?
Craze comes with living in The Land of What Ifs. Of what if I surprised you with a ten hour drive and all of the things I had in mind, before you surprised mine. What if I kissed you in the gray afternoon, what if this feeling of my heart fumbling in my hands (above a mile-high gorge with a white-water river waiting thirstily to swallow it up) never goes away?
Sometimes every thread in the fabric of cloth, like tendrils on a vine, cling to my skin. Suffocate my pores. My mind gets tight, everything I know is I know is I know
is
not.
But no, a circus cage platform make-believing my own fate certain that it is worth it to yell. Sometimes the pitter patter is much faster than it's ever been. Pressure in my chest, tightness pulling at my neck. It's twelve o'clock, noon, and I'm still asleep in a full room. Bodies consumed by monotone. Open the door to close it, climb ten steps in between.
There comes a time to fall back in love with my own mind. Craving the sensation of loving myself and no one else. Selfishness to attain bliss, a curse seemingly worth it. Erase all emotions and hope; face no regret in the eyes of the unknown. Go and go with no attachments, find the inspiration again to erase time. Sand and waves and breeze to shape the formless that you are. I am.
Quiet mumbles and wheels scraping across tiles. Footsteps through long hallways, anxieties dripping from sweat glands over grading scales and waking up for class. Aching to be enough.
What happens when love becomes averse and the very being that you are longs to be unknown?
A reoccuring dream: riding a roller-coaster, unharnessed and not settled, up and down, around, faster than you could know. Views of Australia and mountains along the way, the speed at which I feel danger surrounding me, hanging on for dear life. Falling feet first into a clear blue oasis, white sand covering bare feet, warm water holding a set of smooth knees, and unfamiliar faces gazing past; (as if only their subconscious could sense this abrupt arrival) as if I was precisely on time.