I can’t put roots down in a home that feels alien to me. I blank out my world. I dread the familiar haunting of this abode called my home.
How it represses me and chokes me. Yet,I come back to it like a castrated casualty of Love’s wars . Conditioned to part my lips for misery….
Misery is the strangest bed fellow.
Assumes multiple faces.
Finds solace in one;
then toys the mind into trickery.
Absolute in believing the worst.
The quest for inner happiness is insatiable.
Risqué life impulses
hover to the centre;
reflective to reveal the self
Truth becomes lethargic to express.
Denial in a tangible form is easy to confront.
Fluid is Something
a perpetual change in reason or emotion won’t be summoned into entertaining with a mere appearance.
Who really has it together?
The innocents shake up this universe.
People’s culpability to surprise succeeds in frequent currents.
Inner warfare barely contains the raw diet of pain -self inflicted.
faltering when an impromptu glimpse outlines Guilt slack at the shoulders.
How to do better?
How do we balance every eventuality
From the withstanding of spirit, affection, care free joie de vivre?
to never waiver to out compromise sacred boundaries.
A crave to fly
Be at liberty to roam and murmurate with free agenda.
Yet acknowledge the need for the skies and physics reminder of my limits.
To reveal the divine order that is Nature.
Uncomplicated preambles, snapshots of existence;
staggering through the wilderness, a heart-
beating… though composed of wood.
Daedalic to the fracas of life.