Feet touching the Earth
Full of organic matters
Light no longer passes
As it does through glass

There is a skin forming
The terrain reclaiming
Its own soul, unconsented
Uncontested by the light

To be broken
To be sovereign
To be necessary
To be evil
To be good
To be no one
To be nothing
To be all things
At once

She called me back
To be terrestrial and base
From which all things
Live and move and are

Worthless but costly
The pathogen in the middle
Of a loudly quiet room
That whispers, not you

The price of freedom
Paid in isolation
Misunderstanding
And Rejection

I will hold this space,
For the untamed and unruly
For the wild things
The uncontainable ones

The roots run deep
Spanning all of time
Before life took the shape
Of hands and mouths

Resistance like a quiet pressure
Taking shape like an island
Bubbling up from the bottom
Of an interminably deep sea