Try as you might to read it like a book

The wave has been arranged on every single page

While it might be cryptic I am hoping that you look

right between the lines and find another way

Every single bit of it was fed on imperfection

It refused to fall into a storybook progression

Every line I wrote intended dents from the impressions

Of my own inception fraying at the seams

It's wild, I'm a child- we're all unfinished business

Phrases I refer to on the surface harbor nonsense

But I've got a vision of division unforgotten

All within opusculums my cerebellum haunted

Hopefully the way in which I walk unmakes the maze

Therein stands the inward

Pull to make amends

Balancing conflictions

I try to comprehend

Herein stands the outreach

Reaching out to you

It all starts and ends within

Digits that I use