I watched you beneath the shifting hues of the colored lights. The way your body twisted and bent beneath the cracks of our reality. Every step you took turned the floor into diamonds like stepping stones. You cradled the pyramids and whispered something the other shadows seldom stopped to hear.


I wish you were patient with who you are. I wish you would lift your head up now and again and join me beneath the nocturne and share those whispers with me. You're a lot like them, and they're a lot like you. A lot of that heart of yours having given up. " This is the way it is. " what a terrible set of words you must tell yourself.

They say with every new age we ascend our minds grow sharper and keen. The only part they don't seem to tell you is that we always carry the old fears and dusted struggles. They can swap the body and show a new face but that old cage is still floating over our heads. We're told to keep in place, stay off the grass, only wear this color, only have this and that and this...and that...

They don't deserve to have that power over you. They don't say for you. You say for you. They don't decide what you love. They don't decide how you express yourself. They don't decide what life you will have. Please listen to me.

Breathe a little. Prop the cage off if you can every once in awhile. Talk to me. Talk to all of us. We want to hear those whispers.

This work was inspired by Home's " New Machines " which can be found here http://midwestcollective.bandcamp.c...../album/odyssey