Patterned

 

I am patterned by phases

Mophed into delicate imbalance

Knifes along water sinking easily

Into the estimates of the others

 

Within each isolated niche

A part of me is denied

And i am a voyager of death

Determined to live

 

I last as long as a song

And sing until breath

Has at last spun into nuance

Demarcating sense, swoon

 

My words are marked by self

And by the few who plague me

And monitor the curses

That stream beneath the entrance

Of a window into obstruction

Oblivion has never looked so inviting