keys and maps
for you wake up broken in the morning but resolve by night to continue on, to continue mending the pieces and creating new patchwork stitch lines in the fabric of your skin. you become a map of you, a quilt of you, decipherable pieces that others may read and navigate if only to make your existence just a little more meaningful. maybe there are words there, printed in ink against fine-lined, blue-veined skin, or perhaps you are blank but for images. some of us, we are built in typography, made of so many letters and so many words that spew like nonsense from our entire selves, not just our mouths. the rest of us, we are built in colours, shapes, screen-printed images of our own desire to escape all boundaries of geometric thought. together the image is complete, nonsense combined with fantasy combined with an innate need to break free of unidefintifiable chains. you may not know your captor, all you know is that you are captive or perhaps captivated by something you canít take your mind or your life away from, though it is buried deep beneath mountains of thought, hidden in the back folds of the cerebrum. there it tickles you, jittering, unable to keep itself from reminding you that it is there, although you are never quite certain what it is, never able to spell it out enough to understand it. but it is there: the key to your flight from this contained existence.