I who walk under many a bridges of open eyes,
I who walk with a weight dragging down my sholders,
I who fail to terraform to the concumlative idenity,
I who percive my own failures in others,
within every recived knowledge comes a missing response.
I attempt to reach into my mind,
Holding on to a glob of who I am,
The stuff that defines, replaces, and redefines who I am,
Studying the everything and nothing of who I am,
Teaching me about the me that I am,
To walk away from, or
To walk toward the question at hand,
To walk in fear of me but mabe the me to be,
To walk in progression of an aliment,
Becomeing the very thing that keeps me up at night,
Looking around never quite knowing which path is right,
Either way I go it shall take all my might,
Grasping at the pressure of my chest through all of my contrite.

Swimming through the sea of listless names,
Not knowing the Not knowing the frantic possiblities,
Edgelessly walking through blades of numbers,
Cutting my way into the days of idealism,
Pluralising the wakeing hopes of an empty self,
Takeing away a piece day by day,
Holding on tight to the paragon,
Breathing in the smog of discontent,
Breathing out the prevailance of weakness,
Seeing into a cracked terra firma mentality.