My mind reaches backward,
stretches forward
in a futile quest to stop the pain
twisting my gut
with worry and fear.
Heat sears my body,
as I toss and turn,
Inflamed.
Incensed.
Visceral,
fear memory of not being wanted--
sourceless,
deep vulnerability present within
crying out for wordless expression--
to be taken where it will,
though the mind struggles to pull me out,
like a drowning child.
This feeling is ancient,
and wants to attach itself here,
in this space.
Desperate for reassurance
of my own desirability,
that my existence matters
at all.
Feelings wash over me
like water;
I'm not even sure they belong to me,
yet they need expression,
and proof of Love.
What is that, in the face of eternity?
Is my own life not proof enough?
Tears carry me,
and my throat is hoarse, and raw.
Release is within,
but not accessible today.
The core of me knows
a truth I can't yet reach.
Calling into the dark,
Begging,
for someone to hold my heart--
to tuck me away
in a space of love
until I can find
where I lost the thread...
