COLORED PENCIL ON BRISTOL
27 INCHES x 42 INCHES
There are parameters around me and I don't know why. There are these walls that built themselves out of nowhere and they revel in it. Yet they're stoic and dark and when I catch their glance they give me nothing in return. But I can feel them staring. They are very much alive. There is a formula here that keeps me trapped. There is some kind of pressure that weighs down in measures. And it layers and layers and layers. These parameters choke me in a tender silence. No one is around to hear any sort of screams. So I feel lost trying to make any. Struggling seems foreign and sounds compromised. I'm tethered to this notion and the world stays dark. And my mind is compressed and I'm confused by these parameters. I examine them while they examine me. And I wonder why I can't see beyond their limits. If my eyes did work, I'd open them wider. But the light's run out so I'll lay down some more. I'm sorry because I wish I could tell you why. These parameters all around me create a world removed and everything is beyond the dark.