I’m pulled through the air, yet never complete, or scribbled down quick, but never elite. I’m half-formed and eager, yet lacking a name, waiting for your call before the real game.

A sliver of rebellion, thin and sly, Born from force but never tied. It stows away with silent grace, And festers in its borrowed place.

I break the beat and break your bones- Get too close and hear the moans. I’ve crowned the kings, I’ve sunk the ships, All that weight with jagged lips.

What shields you from the sun’s harsh glare, yet cuts with a snarky line so rare?

I’m a twitchy little limb with a light-up dance, Begging for notice, fat chance. Left or right? Who knows the plan? You drive like chaos in a van. I blink and blink with all my might, You treat me like your conscience-out of sight.