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.