Loved momentarily when it suits for convenience or agenda. Bursting inside, looking from the outside in I question my status quo and wonder who I am.
The arm that reaches up so strong, the blackened haired beast knows I have no fight or resistance. It’s where I belong, where I dream, where I feel at ease. Reprieve. Home.
All my surrounds; the bricks the mortar and foundations of success mean nothing when I look to the crest moon before it’s clad of thick cloud and feel an intense pull of familiarity. I allow its consumption, again and forever. It shapes who I am.
To some a facade, to others a pretense, to many a forbidden agenda. Belonging, love, safety. Thriving.
It calls for me, I see. Always visiting, and I forever guiding. Why fear what I know so well. Why avoid the taboo. The souls wondering as they seek the hand of the living.
Their presence. Withdrawn, I would long for them. Not to be present? I would miss the sense of their arrival as they help me forge the path.
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