provoke me. i must be sitting on
the edge of reason and i am ready
enough to fall apart twice over
i am tired of looking at the world
i must be different if
i do so and maybe the world
doesn't like to spin for different people

looking through broken glass,
well, how many images do you see?
see the fractured remenants of yesterday's
dreams sinking in the
valleys our dried up hope has left.

maybe, who we are now is not due to
the effort we take in shaping ourselves but how
makes us
between the collapsing heap of its
esteemed fingers.