Signature

My name is blue paint, cracked, peeling I know all too well - that fickle feeling and all the cracks on that musty ceiling. My name is echoes of a time gone by I can't ignore, though I may try -shadows that might never die. My name is silence, empty, fleeting broken only by muffled eating and sagging in that eternal seating. My name is lost, forgotten, old and really would rather not be told lest it remind of that rotten hold. My name is breathing, heavy, strained -an unsettled joy now forever stained by feelings that have since remained. My name is hunger, hatred, unrefined a quote, in red, underlined no matter how he might confine. My name is wet, pouring, thundering hail striking against the shaken frail yet hiding behind its cloudy veil. My name is sorrow, cloaked in light watching as the hatchling's flight was stolen by the mother's spite. My name is harmless, weak, aware that I would refuse to care- no, I may never dare. My name is free, after all that time once imprisoned sans a crime though lamentably past my prime. My name is tired, stale, resigned and as much as I might rewind by those I shan't be defined. My name is awake, into the murk wondering if I did my work knowing I would rather shirk. My name has vanished, gone astray my thoughts aflutter, they will not stay who would know my name today? My name is a puzzle, missing parts that make it hard to feel my heart but at least I've gotten a fresher start. My name is trying to wryly grin when asking how I've been- making up a tale to spin. My name is explosive, manic, wild as by my own excitement riled though ultimately ever mild. My name is stringed, dancing, in control- yet bemused to have to my own goals not knowing I was taking tolls. My name is wary, happy, making friends and hoping that it never ends and knowing that it has to end, as it tends.