In The Wake of A Pulse.

I am the face standing in opposite to the laws of nature. i am the features that have passed by the stops of time, miraculously unchanged. i am the face that has never been like glass, but just looked like it was. i am the smile that has not lost hope, underneath the eyes that still feebly sparkle with the doubtful shades of wisdom. I am that very contradiction. Always have. I am the unexpected laughter, the under-estimated breakdown. The promising innocence with a twinge of restless curiosity. I am the smell of Belief. I am the taste of summer. I am the anticipating ears for the Unsaid. I am the fearing forehead. I am the meticulous eyebrows of Reason. I am the grin that follows the recurring tune. I am the portrait of Remembrance. I am the old days, the good and the bad. I am the acquired sweetness in a memory. I am the intriguing stillness in a reaction. I am the sadly cynical. The madly random. I am the shaking voice of Anticipation.

I am the tear before it lands. I am the one that never does. I follow the veins every now and then. I tell myself away in their trail. I cry aloud along the stream. I press my shields against each other away from the signals of Matter, and I'm gone again.

I am the face standing in the opposite direction, mostly alone. I am the face that parallels and never intersects. I am the anchoring notion sometimes. I am the unnoticeable unforgettable.

I am the fluttering breeze of Insanity. I blink to it and I live a different life every time. I am the face walking down the narrow streets under the stray beams of the lonesome light-pole. I am the light-pole at times. I am the buds enlivened by Strawberry Icecream on a surprisingly cool July afternoon. I am the voice inside your head. I burst into life within the collision of notions all around your inner galaxy. I bitterly observe until a stronger force of Insecurity washes over me. I am the stretching cheese in your mouth. I am the carefree giggle you effortlessly release as you chase it up the plate. I am the under-lying rhythm of drums. I am the ear that catches it. I am the miserable dweller. I am the blind eye turned upon it. I am the Unnecessary. I am the Shallow. I am the cheeks of Re-assurance.

I am the off-key drifter. I am the stiff fingers. I am the face that never fails to fail.

I am the peaceful roof-top at the starts of the day, I am the unwavering screamer standing on its edge. I am the face that survives the falls. I am the scars along its jaws. I am Everything in the sense of Nothingness. I am the absence of Common Sense. I am the Reason in its favor. I am the bright Red. I am the pale Yellow. I am the never-ending realm of Gray. I am the abandoned sidewalk on the highway. I am 5:40 a.m. I am the shortest lasting shade of Daybreak Blue. I am the most striking line down the orange Twilight.

I am the abstractly nostalgic. I am the desperate achiever. I am the harsh risk taker. I am the breath of Growth that is born in the consequences. I am the face mesmerized by the depth of the Abyss. I am the nervous teeth of hesitation. I am the head that thrives on jumping first. I am the face of a story-teller. I am a piece of every crafted character. I am the missing one nevertheless. I am the Golden fragment of Closure. I am the purpose of the plot. I am the bitten lips of Tension. I am the helpless hands of a Dream. I am the forgotten spare key. I am the dusty shelf of recollections of Courage. I am the face that scares itself. I am the face that confuses its beholder. I am the strand of hair frying in the sun. I am its obscure reddish brown death. I am the repulsive wrinkles of Reminiscence. I am the stench-detector of the Present. I am the sudden hiccup that snaps you out of your purple reveries. I am the legendary tales of Maybe. I am the horizon in the rearview mirror. I am the early morning rainbow dying against the concrete. I am the wish liberated by the sight of a midnight full moon. I am the whistle at seasons-changing. I am the chilling crisp of a breaking four leaf clover. I am the face of endless wonder. I am the invisible charm in it. I am the face that bore it all in transparencies. I am the skin of Irrationality.
I am the star doodled on its surface.

I am the healing touch of Strength. I am the warmth of the pat on your shoulder. I am the smile at the Bittersweet. I am the familiar song on the radio. I am the gripping sting of passion into your spine. I am the lyrics that change your perspective. I am the stain of ink on your shirt of Pride. I am the palette and brush that turn it into an impressionistic flower. I am the face in the spotlight. I am the face at the backseat. I am the crowd in between. I am the fading connection. I am the distances between the pores. I am the birthmark that remains untainted.

I am the emptiness in the trials. I am the long lost wave of Clarity across the reflection. I am the face that broke the mirror with the looks it tried to fake.