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'm hoping that you look

right between the lines and find another way

Every single bit of it was fed on imperfection

All refused to fall into a storybook progression

Every line I wrote intended dents from the impression

Of the whole 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- 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

And it starts and ends within

Digits that I use