The day I found the inside of me
with the crust of eggshell still atop her head she emerged,
already speaking the truth as I had never known it.
Already husking away the lies of the self
which had held me into hopelessness
she emerged. She spoke
to my own glistening eyes before me, she said,
"This is the condition, my dear
(my one true love)
(my only source of god)
that envelops creation and stretches back into the yawning mouth of the first atom
it is
to be
alone.
To die and birth alone
to cry and rage alone
against the bind of all things that makes you
what you are and
what you are not.
When you feel it deep in your belly clawing at the make of matter,
know that we all claw, we all throw ourselves against
the high ceilings of our skulls and strive
to find another home.
But I am with you,
cradling the wound, healing it with slow, careful
kisses of the self.
I am with you, I am
the oval that surrounds your heart
the Eye within.
I am the last left
when you seek all source of comfort.
You can hide in me."
And with that, she returned home
settling into the crescent in my center.
Gone to the eyes, but still in every bone she speaks,
she whispers,
*You are not alone
as I am here.