if everything is nothing then what are we?

we are woven by the hands of fate, tempered in fire, but shatter like glass.

we know the rules of time and space yet so consistently break them.

we are both the mold and the clay; the future and the past.

we are the chaos dancers, everything and nothing all at once,

our asymptotes soaring high above the clouds,

shadows of the future our past selves beautiful deadly mistakes -

the world's not ready for us but we are the world and

on days like these there's no stopping the unstoppable.

I turn to the sky and shout: I'm so, so, alive.