612. 18/8/16 (#604)
Letters, numbers, a list on a page
Absolutes that will not change,
These lines and dots are my future days,
Defined by database.
My stress, my fear, my falling apart,
My dedication to love and art,
My panicked tears, my shaky start,
My transcripted heart.
How could lives be no more than words?
How could a soul's journey be of no worth?
Can truth so complex have simple birth?
Build a binary world.