Love Bug Bites of Gifted Inner Space
I'm not sure about much anymore Yesterday we both weren't sure I and me. He and me. Then and mine. Fear and longing, water and oil. Why was the new burn 3000 days after the final fire so third degree? Not how, I simply see a yes a wild return to which of where? I now go further, softly, to explore? Fear of Death? Fear of ridicule? Fear of same patterns? Not Being seen or heard? As Me, by Me? ridiculed and dismissed? Shamed and unseen? Squeezed so tightly? Conceived in fear? As me, by me? breath failed to flow? Drowning in hurt? Gasping for light? Hang on tight? As me, by me? Clutching at straws? dismissing signs? slivered shards of sharp hope? The Hangman's rope? As me, by me? patterns of harsh manipulation? Secrecy, control and comfort? My role or his or hers or theirs? Projections all, come hear instead? As me, by me? Interruption and black air tight doors? Dis ease, shame and blame? Unresolved Barbs and unchanged action...