March 4th 2010
I am feeling a little overwhelmed. And really drained. Teary eyed. I want you. I want your arms. I miss their safety. I cannot call. The epitome of hypocrisy.
It is a can of worms that is beginning –that I have talked about/begun to begin an opening. I want you. I want your safety. I want to crawl inside the dark cave of you in my memory, curl into the fetal position and only feel you surrounding me. I want to be ensconced in water, immersed in the scent of your body, drenched in holier than thou fluidity.
Where are you? Not even I have begun knowing. I resentfully finger for the handle of the shovel and beg myself to not begin digging. Done. You are done and … I told myself buried. Why are you still safety? The sky is falling and I want safety.
Can I be my own safety?
This time. Without / no life line. I am afraid. These possibilities are scary. You have said. We have said. So many things. Did you mean it? When you told unconditionally?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment