Faulted You’s

Your gaze is 3/4ths to the horizon and missing the point.  
You are eyes –  
pierced, veiled things that find limit to the sky
and an unfathomable (faulted) truth in the crumbling earth beneath your feet.  
 
You are tides of recognized ignorance  
existing in reality that is full of half-truths.  
This life is a broken bone that didn’t set right,  
suspended faith for comfort and heartache lusts,  
a thousand pieces of shale layered precariously  
edge to edge,  
you are skipping over it without heed to danger.  
 
You are feet bound by freedom you think you deserve.  
You are whittled intentions and morals and sacrifices.  
There is no strength left in your limbs your mind,
to move towards the things that need your aid.
 
You are halfway to limitations,
blood that’s turned to tears
streaming from open wounds that you have self-inflicted.
 
Morals circle your head  
Like a spiked halo, tightening.
Your nails are black with rot
and your veins dripping with indecisions.
 
When you refuse to lift your gaze,
when your sight remains on the seams of the earth –
light will only bloom in the breath  
hidden in the caves of your lungs.