I used to believe quite fiercely
that only finite words could describe,
speaking in definitions
of who we are on the inside.
But, ideas cannot be measured.
They’re intangible and indistinct.
When we try so desperately to contain them,
possibility goes extinct.
No single word can truly
define us so completely.
I’d rather exist in the unruly,
where there’s room for magic and beauty.
You see, in that infinite unknown,
you can literally build things with your mind.
Possibility is completely home-grown,
where imagination is not confined.
When we choose to seek structured labels
that restricts our identity.
We’ll never come into true existence.
We limit all potentiality.