Clockwork

Such a fitting vessel, airtight to embody the delicate balance that swayed within them.The gears moved in time with their sprockets gnawing at each other grinding for appreciation and knowing that their equals worked along side. There was no time to contemplate their own movement, as chaos would enfold and destroy the very filament that held them together.

Calculated.

Precisioned.

Wrong.

Why contain the very thing I’ve been trying to liberate? Such a strange conversation, but needed and fitting for the moment.

The gears grinded to a halt, The compression began inside. The knitted skin released the stitches that bound the wound closed.

Impunity rose from the mouths that buried the licit. Peace enveloped the disheartened chemicals and awkwardly smiled to commit the act, and clawed to free themselves from the chains that bound them in the reflex of imprisonment.

But you’re too far gone to take back what’s become of yourself! Wrong.You are wrong.

Let this refinement burn the impurities that rust and blind and swallow whole that lullaby. The arms will grow that sustain this moment in this life, we will look back and see that the evolution was necessary and was selfish in not happening sooner.

PersonalMerek Davis