There’s a fine line
Between who I am
And who I want to be
An ink stained marker
Separating this life
From chaos
Keeping me contained
In between the lines
But I like it messy
This idealized dilemma
Chaining me inside
To this mirror image
That smiles when I smile
And makes me whole
I like things in boxes
So I can look inside
Then close them tightly
Pretending they’ve vanished
So much dust in the breeze
I stand here watching
Observing who comes and goes
Who can cross the space
Between hope and destiny
As casual as you please
These tendencies in vain
That keep me grounded
Walking a lowered tightrope
This fine line
Splitting me in two
But only when I let it
Only when it matters most.