Scribbled Thoughts

Follow a calling

that buries your nature,

slowly drowning what you were

and creating a puppet

to dance on strings

and destroy the world.

Recount the learnt

and see if skills have blossomed,

or whether imitation

is all you’re capable of

and wait for others

to realise the truth.

Sinking into solid ground,

your meaning already out of sight,

buried where you can’t reach

so you’re forced to face

the world alone,

but all you can do

is stay crouched

and desperately claw

beneath your feet.

Schedule my movements,

monitor all changes,

signal the process

and confirm the end.

Consume all will

but lose all

sense of self

until the triggers

are meaningless…

and me.

Revival of the dormant,

the stale state triggered

to inhale a world

and widen the irises

of possibility,

revealing the little

you can control

but the vastness

waiting to engulf.

Chase the familiar

that dances out of reach,

morphing into extraordinary

and leaving attainable goals

behind

where you must stay

and remember the warmth

once wrapped

in a friendship.

Reminisce in laughter

at memories still fresh

because dust settled

before you revisited them,

bringing fondness to the familiar

and relinquishing control

over your incline to loneliness.

Day of celebration

designed for the individual,

yet all others

are considered and mixed in

until nothing is about them

and they are drowned

in the aftermath

and told to be grateful.