Artwork by Landon Metz
our shell, our inter-faces 
grow at a calculable pace
aged, years, worn time

physicality makes sense
children can feel their bones grow
sudden growth hurts

the interior landscape
moves in prolonged 'spurts'
engorged segments
where ambitions are archived
without boundaries or beginnings

as adults we're
thrust into the unmappable 
the profound process of processing
internal turmoil descends
severed-self. new-growth-host
becoming, this game is a muffled mess