The transition of my dawn to dawn
happens so quick –
I make chirps with these words.
I deny soreness to alter this transition.
This smile once with rabbit like reflexes
has left to slowdown to a plastic output.
I could choose to miss what I was,
like truly I could.
Or I could cheer for the fight I’ve
put in with all the squares flipped
tangentially to my liking.
What more could this lead to?
Now I am shell of who?