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Jul 2011
I'm flesh again.
Ripped out of the heavens.
Snatched up by something turning me from a metaphoric whisper,
to a tree stump.
I enjoyed being ethereal again after so long.
I've been metamorphosed;
repressively manufactured as the recipient of love;
been made 'real' again.
Soon I'll dilute,
wash out,
become irritable and complacent.

The death of the mercurial.

My deepest darkest fears of happiness.
Written by
Kathleen  F/United States
(F/United States)   
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