fracturing in the kaleidoscope reality
that doesn't let me see
where the truth in the image lies
trying to remember the seen
and unseen are just illusion
and all that is real is the felt beyond
the places the ego cannot touch
but with the way the light skews
through the human eyes
while through the ears
comes on the mocking beat
of the ever counting clock
of a heart that grows cold in the chest
through the nights of single breath
and the days without the sunlight
in another's eyes
I have been too human
for the spirit to have its way
and so sometimes it takes this body
for a cage
some days it slips through the bars
and leaves the hollow echo
of its prayers for going home
while others it sings the song
of clipped wing beings
who must only dream
to find their kind
in prisons and in forests
and in skies I've long forgotten
that are calling to be soared
and the world becomes a blanket
with its hallucination of the night
waiting for songs
forgotten how to hear
to remind me of
the touch of day
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