QUINN NOVA
Staff Artist
THis vision Becomes Irritating
Poking, prodding, putrid, pulsating
Asking if I’ve “found it yet?”
Always breathing down my neck
Looming over my every move
“They’ve all found it, why can’t you?”
Toss me, turn me, round and round
Clock keeps ticking, can’t stand the sound
Where am I supposed to go?
What is there for me to show?
Have you–
Heavy choices weigh down my skin
Now it’s tearing and wearing thin
Whiplash grinds my vertebrae
This or that way? I can’t say
HAVE–
I could run or I could stay
All I want is to get away
Winter’s melting, summer’s frozen
I’m so dizzy and still unchosen
YOU FOUND–
Lungs constrict, my lips turn blue
My brain is mush, I’m a sickly hue
Rotten, stagnant, stuck in time
The vision claws at my weary mind
HAVE YOU FOUND-
No late-night epiphanies
Nor moments of clarity
Forever forking paths ahead
And fig tree allegories in my head
HAVE YOU FOUND IT?
NO.
I have not found It!
Only that I’m too malleable
And that I have the urge to do it all
Experience everything
While confined to nothing
Many facets
Many paths and
Cloudy visions, ideas vague
My story’s written day by day
Labels won’t stick this metamorphic flesh
And limitations can only oppress
Boxes can’t hold ever-growing bones
Fuck, just call me “Jack”, and let me roam
My roots will never grow too deep
Air and wind control my feet
Your single purpose is not for me
I am endless, fleeting, forever
Free
Q.N.