Motivation

I glare into the dark, as it morphs and changes its shape.

It beckons me forward, an ode to pleasantries in soft daylight.

Being as it may, it injures my being.

Following my head, I carry on aimlessly.

Neither am I here nor there, as this box leaves me stifled.

Gazing at an eternity I cut apart myself like felt.

It falls away such as flower petals drop like flies.

I stare at my un-moving self.