Apostrophies (Exploration)

image by Fionarose (deviantart)

Pieces of the puzzle
Slices of the pie
we open apostrophies
with the squints of our eyes
dot the lines
that paint the eyes
cater to streets
where shadows mourn
the crucified self
we cry old spirits to sleep
Teasing between our teeth
The knitted wool
Of the fear which plans to Seize us
I am short,
and tall once more
One minute high
forever small
Inching to the freedom
Graves lie where selves once used to be
In between
A folded me
I miss myself
Old crooked grin
The way i loved the soul within
It's simple self
The slip
of a soul that
was denied
It's Columbus.