I am being pushed around the puzzle pieces that fit so perfectly together to make up this world. I hop all of the cracks because who wants to break their mother's back? The ink was spilled somewhere alone the track and I am now leaving inkmarks and blotches behind me wherever I go. I eat little cookies and drink tonics to grow bigger and smaller. In times a certain urgency pulls me into drafts and planning. I wasn't really made for these designs I say aloud.
There is no place like anywhere but home but home pulls at a person from all directions and all paths lead to it. I lend a softened self forward to the hopes of nestling gracefully into the past and hope that I have earned enough stripes and callouses in all of the right places to make it out alive.
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