the space above my ears.

Shoe Gravel/Sole Stones

It wasn't hard to learn to self-destruct.

Step one, step two, stop and get lost.

Step three, step four, dismiss your demise.

Step five, step six, spin until you don't know up from down.

Step seven, step eight, start over.

Oh, okay, I get it, hands on shoulders, hands down pants, hands holding much more than hands,

And we're on a whole new level, baby, look up at the clouds above us.

Can you see how small we really are?

Do you now know why we have to adore things as they come?

I'm sure you do, and odds are you were sent here to teach me the gratitude of working for the big picture

But the "big picture" is just hole after hole in the dirt, blistering palms, slate shovels glinting in the blaze of the beating sun.

With the promise of purpose always echoing through the walls of the canyon, it is not hard to push my body past its limit.

With the promise of freedom and the protection from being swallowed or possessed by the heat, I can believe I've made it here when I was only ever spiritually present before.

I will reach the other side of the world, dig a path like an artery through the planet and emerge victoriously...

But right now, I'm standing on hard rock and when I look up, I see a darkly-glistening galaxy even though it's hardly afternoon.

I'm much too far in to climb back up, no rope is long enough to ever reach me down here, so what am I to do?

Watch the stars, I suppose, adorning the glowing abyss like tiny jewels,

Cloudless.

A landscape of iris should be there, and if it were, I'd be the ugly but observant black hole sitting dead-center

I'm ruining the whole scene, aren't I?

It's your vortex, though.

I wouldn't have dug myself so far down if it weren't for your call to my savior complex.

To be honest, I thought I was done here.

I thought it all tied together alright, even if you never did answer that question so cleverly embedded in my plea for closure.

No, I ache for you still.

It's such a primal need, bottom of the pyramid, I'm starving, can't you see me?

Can't you hear me,

Or am I too small now?