It seems like I’m everywhere these days

and nowhere.

One minute

focused like a laser beam,

the next,

trying to take in the entire expanse of creation

in one glance;

a screenshot

of everything.


The struggle is real;

or is it?

Am I just making it up?

Am I grappling with a lie?

How many more pieces

do I have to shed?

How much more

dead flesh

do I have do cut away

before I’ll rise to the surface again?


Back to the drawing board.

Back to the iron,

and the lead,

and the brass,

and the mats,

and the sweat,

and the blood;

until something falls together,

or falls apart.


Until then you can find me



and nowhere.



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