Everything, everything

What if the end is a delicate fraction of obscurity?
The worry that eats away at our hearts and minds
The way the sun of love melts the dew of our dilapidated dreams
It is an odd thought, how we imagine the end
Drunk on our insecurities
Discounting our light through confused darkness

We are more than our conspicuous works
We are more more than what the eye does not see
We are more than our flesh lets us be
We are more than the haunting need for perfection
We are more than the motions of life concealed
We are more than our strangled sensibilities

We are everything we are and intend to be,
we are everything in between,
wrapped in fractured maps of logic and love,
and unbroken laughter.

– cc –