Capacity, Exceeded

The vase is broken,

And now, this space is open

For all the world to see,

What's really been kept in these walls-

All the good, bad, the better and the worse

Black marks on a battle-scarred canvas,

The best and the worst, stories of war-

Ink floods the shelf and falls to fill the floor

The void that is my true color-

In a black sea I see a reflection of myself,

Ripples in the ink sing to me a noise I wanted to avoid,

Perfection's voice~

Is in fact, the exact opposite of what it praises itself to be-

Repeating to me

All I wanted blotted from my memory,

T's I never crossed and I's I hadn't dotted

Lines I've drawn and those that were crossed

Bridges that were built, those that fell, and those that burned-

This black sea I must cross,

The trail I leave in the ink, I leave to tell story after story

A message I hope can sink beneath the skin of all who need to hear

Perfection's voice is a curse to all ears,

The birth of too many fears,

And the very same that breached these walls-

That disturbed the peace that now is merely history in these walls

The war between good and bad has reached the height of these walls

No longer, could the brick and mortar hold

No longer, could this chaos be contained,

Now all the world can see the madness in the ink-

What babel echoed in these walls has been set free,

Far too long, has this vessel been far exceeding its capacity

Is it treasure or dross that pours from these walls?

Is there anything to reap from this reality?

For who is to decide that, is not me