suppose the faux ignition

deep within your eyes finally dissipates

and all the petty visions and thoughts

that ever filtered through your flawed

grid of perceptions and beliefs

irrefutably blows its fuse

and sizzles with surrender and woe

suppose years of complying

with the mistakes you’ve created

finally kicks you in the ass

and you give up on pretending

you have something significant to say

and all the voices and opinions

surrounding you are now denatured

and past their prime

and you’re tired of the flawed feedback

you’re were always accustomed to

suppose you raise your hands high into the air

feeling through the empty web you weaved

extending your feet to run as fast as you can

down a street you’ve never traversed before

searching for the enthusiasm and passion

always eluding your grasp

your fingers now feverishly feeling for hope

your words flirting through diaries of dreams

your eyes opening for the first time

your heart finally tolerant for change

your mind modifying its range

your voice composing fresh idea

suppose you’ve supposed long enough

and it’s time you celebrate being alive

and time to get over dying