matriculation

standing atop a silver slate facing an ocean. all i can think about is rappelling down the face of the quarry wall. wishing for a safe descent, slowly progressing to that clearly-defined edge. the wind pours over our ears, creating minuscule currents of air that whirl into our aural caverns, sending multiple sensory impulses.

i cannot describe what security feels like.

i cannot relate to a summer that was not mine.

wide-eyed and with shortened breaths, i apprehend a small glimpse of what ground zero appears to be. a sea of red velvet littered with an array of white roads. a candy-painted circuit board safety net.

but what rests beyond this red and white lie?

what never ceases, but fails to rear its head?

focusing on the level plane while facing straight down, i feel a rush of lightheadedness as my brain attempts to calculate this astronomical distance and how much pain will be caused. with idle hands, a void continues to remain malignant in some part of my personality.

they say the shortest distance between two points is a straight line.

but what happens if i alter the vector?

thoughts are constantly reeling through my inner thought processes. a neural battlefield creating an immeasurable cataclysm. a controlled explosion of catastrophic proportions. an amalgamation for the convalescent.

we're all born to fabricate some sort of death wish.

we all bleed as if it was our obligation to fulfill it.