Grit

out of everything else i could be

I chose this.

of all the promises and hopes and dreams i could select

I refuse to choose just yet.

in time,

measured in constructs and realities that warp

maybe i might know

what is calling me.

the grit between every line

the sun-beaten hardships working away at my hands while i build

a patterned, tiled frame

set to sift and fit everything

but..but...

something else pulls away at my loose edges

stop smudging me, i want my shading bold.

isn't the hissing of the silence what gives us cause to live?

i want..

I wish...

but, how?

~