Hands deep into the fabric of my mindset,
I pick up two pieces and feed them through.
I sat in front of my machine,
expecting myself to improve the world.
Focused on nothing other than
the threads of time connecting us.
What time is it?
What day is it?
I don't even know.
Threads, torn.
I keep tossing scraps to the side
and sewing my spirit into everything.
Slow, I start to unravel.
My well-being becomes unbound
scraps of fabric spread across the floor.
Thinking
-anything the world needs-
I have it.
