and there is art i will never see again no matter my stare, music my ears will find themselves deaf to. the threat is too great to bear, a groaning dam.

i am built for the ages, meant to carry every stone and shadow collected. every dart and blade and blessing. of course my eyes are heavy, of course my hands. of course my heart. of course it hints at an endless decrescendo, of course the zenith is blinding in retrospect. so will the next one be.

there is no room for it, each piece so tightly fit, so perfectly shaped. there is no room to break open the stone to see it bleed, there is no need. no need.

here you are again child, with your clenched fists, but there is no need.