Blood for the bones

Taking it down to the microscopic. I can hear the beating of my own heart and the ocean wave of my breath. My body is a playground, funneling into the earth and lighting up the sky. Explosions of color in a word, slippery textures sticking to the tongues of strangers and drawing me towards expression, the world is full. I watch the veins in my hands as movements come natural; I am shocked at the fluidity. Waking up and taking notice when I feel like an imposter. Like life is within me and feeling it, brings it out. Each time is an eternity, the sensation of saliva in my mouth, lips pressed so softly. I can’t get enough of the brightness, the soupy mixture of experience runs down my chin. These days, I can’t win. Comparing doesn’t get me anywhere expect back into a reality that shaves the magic off, discards the blood for the bones. I am shiny inside, bulging based excitement, holding it and letting it out slow into action and then silence. Giving and taking until I fool myself into believing, that I belong in concrete boxes next to buzzing machines.