Shapeshifter (part 1) (poem)

By Luke Labern

I
Feel that my shape is not a constant.
Often times, my passions poured into work,
Moving physical matter, which you can't
Deny that you have paused, to lurk.

It hurts
When I feel like a liquid.
I have no absolute form to live in...
Neither strength nor weakness can I forbid.
So much in the past is pure chagrin.

In my mind
I've literally killed: a life fully lived.
The body I've crafted can seek justice
In a unique way, with my violent sieve.
I'm always alert. Why? It just is

That way for a
Reason. Reasons of my own design.
Though the seasons affect the way I look,
Is the skin I'm in, ever really mine?
This can't be me... Look what I took

And turned it into
This obscure ambience. I pause to wonder
How I've changed the world, and if any one
Has had the courage to peer under
My façade ... Or has no one begun?

I know that I wouldn't
Avoid the chance to further what we are.
I'm emotionally frustrated.
There are flames in me that will begin to scar
The world's beating heart. Never created,

I know the number seven
Can bring an end to your incessant lies:
They never cease, and neither will I --
The look from your wretched and hateful eyes
Reflect my change: because of me, you die.