Sometimes, it’s all I can do
not to pay attention to the constant fear
of never knowing what will happen next
and just listen, and accept
that this may just be the way it’s supposed to be
for me

and sometimes
I just want to be able
to go home,
wrap myself in the covers of a security I haven’t felt in years
(if ever…)

and completely dissapear
in the deceptive warmth
of ignorance and denial…

but I don’t know home
and I don’t know security
and though I love my life and the daily uncertainty

it just gets to be just a little too much to carry –
or at least, it seems so…

and all I can do is rest for a bit
make a paste of heartblood, tears and light
repair and strengthen the wings that have become torn
and wait for the wind to lift me again…

~ ~ ~

whittles shared this beautiful poem with me a couple of weeks ago, written by heliocide.
It comforts me when I read it, I see myself so clearly – but
I’ve already sold everything I could, just to get this far
so all I can do is look for the next inch to open itself to me.

(I’m not too good at waiting for some things…)


In the beginning,
The road stretched infinitely far
   To the edge of my front yard,
Yet I was confident of conquering it in a day.

Now, my path reaches only as near
   As a dimly seen star,
And I ransack my belongings to pay the price
   For the next inch.


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