Encoded to Be

If all of me is passed down
then is my will even free?
I try to think back—
to the beginning but I can’t
for the life of me
see through this fog of predetermination.

And as I sink into this chair
I am captivated by the lack of possibility:
the inevitable misery of it all.

It’s as if I am dreaming
twenty-seven years
dreaming still—
that these legs will carry me
through a partitioning haze