Picking scabs

By: Anyssa Q. E

-and there was he, standing tall,

My vicarious, fretful counterpart; 

Thrown to beauty, basked in awe,

towards the cosmos spiral light,

Our relevance, yet disregard,

to the eternal, fractal, algorithm, 

In which we drink and bask in life,

and dance awkwardly in it's rhythm. 

Yes, my counterpart, dumbed and feeble,

expressing ignorant stagnant evils,

tore the wounds to let them thawe;

Peeled the flesh to pick the hole, 

and reestablish humanly plethoric awe,

to reconnect the halves for whole.