Shapeless

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I’m shapeless

rising and falling against the rigid plane,
each inhale a cool question,
and every exhale some version of resolve –
a slowing tread in the fathomless deep of the not knowing

arms tucked beneath my weight,
I hold me close to myself,
coiling into a ball that part of me I’ve been so desperately clinging to lately,
the part of me in near-constant conflict,
the part that’s in an endless pursuit of a fulcrum

because my world has felt slanted,
my footing, at first, just off-balance enough to feel the steady slipping into another plane,
into a place where my edges become pliable,
where they begin to take their own shape

and I sink into the slide,
no power over the sculpting as they expand without the boundaries they so desperately wish to push against,
to shape themselves to

I’m shapeless;
this shape is all mine

and behind me, there you are,
expecting,
and all I want is to meet those expectations,
every one

but each draw only pinches and rubs until it splinters,
jagged edges left protruding,
reaching for,
seeking
they seek a rough surface on which to file themselves against,
or they seek to sharpen

I’m shapeless;
this jagged shape is all mine

because I just don’t know which they expect,
what they want,
what you want

what do you want,
what do you want from
from me?

“As you look around this room tonight
Settle in your seat and dim the lights
Do you want my blood do you want my tears
What do you want
What do you want from me”
-lyrics by Pink Floyd;
-image via Tumblr