Two faces appear before my eyes
One I don’t know but I should
Looking past all the obvious
Just to see lines that can’t be crossed

Dictate a presence
Lines carved with dirt and oil
Will lines be remembered when old eyes decay?

Will I ever be permitted back to a time when I knew who I was?
Will I ever see past all the things I wish I could forget?

Shards of glass inflictions jab into muscle and skin
No tone like the present, the flow of nothing begins

Today we’ll start with a shortened breath
Until we breach the end of it
A child yawns, an adult cries
There’s laughter in ignorance

We wonder why
Tired times, exhausted wishes
Bones crack and we are weak

Fractured images, decaying lines
Cannot cross, fading signs

Dictate a presence
Lines carved with dirt and oil
Will lines be remembered when old eyes decay?