I.
I have accepted my fate;
My inability to move, to speak
The fast-paced switching of scenes
Each time I get to blink.

I do understand the gap—
The pressure of compactibility; claustrophobia
Interferance may set you ablaze–
Or so I told myself.

II.
It has always been like this:
An ever-repeating cycle
The blending and molding
Into what I ought to be.

Time became my comfort
As I warmed and accepted change
Pieces of me were scattered
Now, I am complete.