Molded into the confines of outlines, growth is stunted. Freedom’s delicate, yet powerful, force contained. Running hard to the end of tether relief is found, release is sought. Pacing.
The living, over yonder, still there? Movement is absent, silence, thoughts run rampant, possible realities dreamed.
Hollow embraced as each melds into the next. The road, no one on it, empty, once overgrown laid bare now.
A loop holding attachments, what if it should break? Single hole becoming vast space, loose, all falling away. Weight of burden disappearing without trace, in a flash, in an instant.
Flipping switches, on and off, become a low flame in the night, giving warmth. The buzz is silenced, all becoming calm.
Smooth waters, silt on bottom, they churn and collect oxygen, bringing life to the living.
Ragged edges, glorified, now the norm. They are chosen over whole, over complete and strong.
Falling, slowly without awareness. Smiling as though it were a pleasure, lost.