invisible: a poem

It's been a while since

I've stood up on my toes,

I'm nary tall, nary short-

always a displeasing draw,

It's an everlasting sporadic thought

I've carried the weight, incessantly.

My heart yearns to be extraordinary,

the kind of soul you'd mark as your muse

to paint poetry,

the kind of consciousness that's beyond comprehension

but within the grasp of ceaseless admiration

for existence and past,

the kind of hand that caresses conviction and oozes confounding

courage and appeal.

The devil's in the details but I'm fading-

my presence yet godforsaken.

How do I chase if I'm cascading

into vacant relevance?

i'm invisible.

maybe, it is all i can be.

A