My

not really sure if any of these flow together. i wrote them all on separate occasions with the same basic premise, only with different directions. perhaps more will follow.

My head is cool but my hands remain unsteady; testament of betrayal. My inconsistent tendencies will soon by my end. I do not wish to delay the coming of unparalleled beauty, but the weight of strings retracts misinformed steps. Let it be. My head is cool, my hands are steady, but my heart will not comply.

My silent heart waited anxiously for a reply, as if implying I was somehow worthy of such enlightenment. What does it take for a man to comprehend his place, both in this world and within himself? A separation, a tear from Providence. My silent heart received its reply, when at last it knew its place.

My feet shuffle forward despite a reluctance that resides deep within them. They do not understand what they have been burdened with or why; it is merely enough for one foot to be ahead of the other. A weighted step remains a step. Perhaps someday they will find rest from their toil; albeit the heart passes with assured confidence.

Sunburn

The skin on my shoulder is peeling. A layer of skin, fresh and raw, has surfaced amidst the shedding of what has been burned and destroyed. It's preceding layer gave the best it could, holding out with its well-intentioned failings, withstanding the barrage of strikes it could not turn back. Who has left this vulnerable organ to such disarray? Who, with disregard for one of its members, has turned its back to passive aggressors? It is the one who must guard the newborn layer with precaution, as the seasoned veteran has left under his disregard. A second chance, with remembrance, will intend to alter his altercations, preserving the skin he has left.

I was bored and felt like typing something. The rolls of skin coming off my shoulder was all I had to write about apparently. Been a slow day maybe?