Two faces appear before my eyes One I don’t know but I should Looking past all the obvious Just to see lines that can’t be crossed Dictate a presence Lines carved with dirt and oil Will lines be remembered when old eyes decay? Will I ever be permitted back to a time when I knew who I was? Will I ever see past all the things I wish I could forget? Shards of glass inflictions jab into muscle and skin No tone like the present, the flow of nothing begins Today we’ll start with a shortened breath Until we breach the end of it A child yawns, an adult cries There’s laughter in ignorance We wonder why Tired times, exhausted wishes Bones crack and we are weak Fractured images, decaying lines Cannot cross, fading signs Dictate a presence Lines carved with dirt and oil Will lines be remembered when old eyes decay?