The anxiety of the unexplained
Is like an impoverished state
A mental ache
Caged alone
Sidestepping the back of an alleyway
pummeled in
cobwebs
Squeamishly awaiting the sentencing of a scarcity filled critter approaching its death

The existence of him; an individual
And myself
I thought I knew what I felt at the time
The excitement in my chest
at the very thought of speaking to him aloud
Even in my thoughts
In my dreams
The relationship between them
has been severed by it

As though it had been abandoned
By the riverbed
of endless possibilities
met with the banks of effortlessness neglect to which nothing happens in the end

I kept
waiting for more to flood my insides
in due time


It was not my energy alone
that was responsible for this repeated
Cycle
We were unprotected and unrenewed: despite him always speaking of protection
it was manipulation before any sort of new,
A blinded experience
That I did not choose to see

Only a man who is ready for everything, who excludes nothing, will live the best of relation
to another as something that can grow and remain alive

I willed myself to exhaustion

This existence of fear
as a large or small window depending on the day, I only knew pieces of that room, he showed me a heart contained by secrecy

Placed by a locked door
a slipshod floor on which he walked
up and down the steps of my attempted understanding

He had his own fatal security
And a dangerous
insecurity that created a madwoman out of me

I felt out the shape and the textures of his cornering
A room set up to be a closet without light
He said he is a prophet
Like God
But all he created was himself as a stranger

To me and whoever knew him

I did not want to be a prisoner.
But I felt trapped
Nothing could worry me
I kept going with it

I had no reason to
mistrust that world for it wasn’t against me.

YetI was alone and the dangers did I try to love

It seemed to me the most alien
But I wanted to trust him without faith.
How can that be? It was not in faith that I believed.

Perhaps all the wolves of our lives are cloaked
in false princes clothing
waiting to see us
even for a single moment
beautiful and brave

And they don’t even know why

“Perhaps everything terrible is in its deepest being something helpless that wants help from us.”