The Ceiling

The view swallows me whole

from down here

it’s cold

i look up

into the light

outlining my hands with darkness

as i reach

past my station

and my level

and my class

and my knowing

into tomorrow

pushing a lil further

the sticky bits of yesterday’s dreams

clung to my skin

broken stems of possibilities

scrape and bleed

past more dusty realities

ineffable

straining my arms until they were sore…

further still