Poetry

flux
who am I
the small thoughts of a small mind twisted in the shape of hope incarnate
cast in the mold of dreams that last forever and left open to their fate
Dancing the molten core of pain I feel the blood or time run though my fingertips
and no matter how fast the music plays it never seems to skip

flux
who am i
Smaller than I had presumed in my infantile moments of delusional bliss
and worth far less than the amount of soul I am prepared to risk
self confidence melts like a slushy snowball on hot summer midday
out of place in the very space that is all I have in which to play

flux
who am i
fishing in the deepest water of the brackish pit of the mind's tide
I search for the bit of wisdom I can lift my life to from the inside
catching bits of stars that unfold into twinkling bits of dreams
There is less to the more of me than it seems.