keep knocking up against these walls and ceilings.
feeling stuck inside this box.
these expectations, imprint themselves against my skin.
[in the thick of usurpation, turbid thoughts]hard to tell where the world ends and my self begins.
entangled predelections exhaust.
histories, dance across my skinburning permanence, pattern painted thoughts.
not sure where my line of intention is
trying to get a sense of whats mine and whats not
sondering within the fret,
dropping threads,
a perpetual promenade between is and ought.