Tranquilized to reality,
Fiddling on all of these axoms that conceal my countenance with hope.
Never coming to know, the directive I wish to take.
Saddened in all my joy, freezing nectar in time.
Finding no complaints from my external foe, malaise in my tissues.
Aimless in my poetic lexicon, I cannot describe the feelings in a language that taught me to express.
As the seasons tumultuous chill locks me in, I see change in what is fixed.
And expectation in opposite to my novice tendencies.
Always frozen,
With a heart that beats the thud of life.
Always frozen,
With skin that warms on a blistering summer morning.
Always frozen,
And still soaring with buckling knees.
But I never move.
Oh how I remember that too late.
The cords of retrospect lie in an abysmal heat,
And the glistening thread darkens as the hour passes.
Who lived through the moments?
They fade and fade, and my mind wonders if it was me.
To be- and to feel fresh into life- having no recall- no grudge- tinged unreasonably with suffocation.
Spewing all I reject, in my tedious mentions of what I never understand.
Catching myself in delusions of the boundary I cannot cross.
Goodbye she says once more trembling in her disposition.
