inconstant are the waves of emotion that
inject themselves into the bloody map
that weaves through my body, yet
disruptive all the same.
i could spend every day struggling
to fight it, to push it back with
sheer force of will -
or i could let the sensation of being
totally consumed by something,
with the rawness of it all,
overtake my faculties and
bring me to that line
in the sand between
awareness and truly feeling,
truly seeing, but with an
eye i do not wholly possess.
so i choose the latter;
i choose to write.