Days pass in blindness. Caressed by the dark
Until I open.
Pounding, my head forgets
As I fade in to childhood.
I am vexed.
I look upward with placid orbs
Slowly becoming a grounded air balloon
Torn and tattered.
I am deflated.
Inspecting forward I see pores,
Flesh, scars, days on the playground,
Perhaps I eventually see a face.
I am defined.
Downward I fall, becoming an ant
And seeing hundreds of the single blade,
Thousands of building blocks.
I am closed.