No Title. Poem by GRANT FRASER

what's enough?

I don't think I have a line,
that's worth all that,

a line that purely,
identifies the moment
that I live...

I have never struck
my heart so hard,

to feel it - implode,
or truly turn back on itself,

I am as fake as the world
of faces, before we were made,

but to get beyond this,

I can only alter, the space
of skin beneath my hair,

looking out vast,

to know that everything is replicating
and repeating,

and change, means little at all!