the alarm clock slaps cold confusion against
my chest
my teeth, they grind
and a flock of birds, in a chorus of flapping
and screeching, take flight in my stomach

the ground lurches under my sore feet
as they recall the miles of tread they've laid
these days
but each step will always be more misguided
than the last

and there's no fear on my face
only pure determination to make these miles
mean something
serenity and childlike curiosity, grounded
and naive

these strange paths carry me with cold force
for i have continued choosing to walk
amongst my demons
following that pale, bright ribbon of
passion and peace