17.6.15.

There’s an undoing to everyone

In their hiding places

In their dare not’s

Is a weak camouflage

What are you not

When you can be anything

Absolutely anything . 

Nature left trinkets

To the one who looked harder

Deeper

Why did you say no

When you could’ve said anything?

The doors you didn’t open

What were you waiting for? 

What do you have now

That you kicked down every last one? 

The wild-foot manics cut their heels with sharp, sharp ends

Yet they dance over the edges.

They see bridges you don’t