It is with the simplicity of a single sheet of paper that these words are coming out of me.

None at all.  

Struggling, aching with potential.
Clouding the emptiness, growing heavier.
Getting so heavy.
Bursting forth, victoriously impulsive and unprepared.
Leaping!

Falling from the lips, and dying, too fragile to endure
the critical gaze of the beautiful.

The senten ces be gin to break apart into syllab les
and then in
to
lett
ers

the     substance of
m   y
int       er actions wi th
oth    ers

dying


in

t
h


e


**mud.