Why is it when I bleed, he licks my wounds and feeds?
In my time of need consuming me?
Starved and hungry
I’m bearing my bones
Bits of me crumble to the edge
I’m peering over
Deceived that the fall isn’t far
I’ll land on my feet as the cat beneath
Am I broken?
Pieced together by strings
Did I create the illusion of weakness through my own guilt?
Dreams I myself devour in my waking life
Is the opposition that which is eroding me?
I trace the curves of my body left
My gifts of words float out of me
Soothing others afflictions
Waiting for someone to calm me in my constant anxiety
Winding down the notch, turning off the alarm, I drift
Dropping into unconsciousness beneath the surface seen
Diving and bobbing in and out of lucidness
Desiring to linger in a launch pad of creations
Born only of thought
Nobody in attendance
Confirmations held by one
Of lost hope
Directed in my head
Angela K. Crandall