unsure pupils, just barely released

from the dreaming den

struggle to shift from slumber to selection.

Is today the day that I reignite the

pinnacle promise of my best self?

there’s only one way to find out.

so i sleepily play pied piper on my heart flute

until all the varied shadows of me

stream + cavort out of

my soul wardrobe, displaying

crimson tees tinted with rage,

mellow yellow skirts of perception,

+ brocade jackets of brooding.

a many-hued parade of potential psyches

made possible by humanity’s

grasping gamble hope

that the perfect guess

will guide

our kismet kissed roulette ball

into the right notch

+ unveil life’s secrets

hidden away like nuts

in almost-forgotten holes.

choices, neuroses + morals

jostle for elbow room in their bone cage,

overloud so-called spectators

for the daily freudian perp walk

of the shaded spaces

between the lines.

 what potential

will you unlock



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