Little bit
Of both

Tad of the
Other

Mixed like
A meal heated
And
Sloppy

I am a painting
Drawn by
Two hands

What I was before
I was
Is what I am
Now

Psychic continuity
Of identification
To keep everything
In order

We develop
To a point, then
Yield
To ourselves.

There is a wall,
A ceiling,
A boundary we
Are unwilling
To break free from
For fear
Of losing our former selves.

We can only go
So far.

The lightbulb
Only has
So
Much

Life.

The horizon is
Finite, it hath an end.

We are all
Natures selections
Until

We are not.