artemesia

day one was a tornado. splitting the timbers, upending whole neighborhoods, terrorizing the young and old.
this tornado loves you, this tornado loves you.
What will make you believe me?

it is too late in the night to go venturing out again. there is no hostel to hold me. not at this hour, anyway.
so, spill the tears and rage and stand and stand and hide and stand.
agree to some soothing but commit to nothing.
I spend my heart trying so hard to sit on the other side of this door, listening to your cries. I'm here. I'm  here. I will not abandon nor hurt you nor subject you to either.

I sit and breathe and sob for Idon'tknowhatorwhy. and hear,
"Listen to yourself.  Trust the tornado ripping through you. You've come this far."

and, sweet, glorious daybreak still shimmering from the flood invites me to swim in the gentle rain and explore. there are threads that have been holding the universe together.
afraid to tug at them, I tug at them.
I am light and you are dark.
I don't know why. I don't understand this darkening without reprieve, this night without moon, this void without end... and I do. It hurts me deeply to add more pain to yours. I freeze, conflicted, in your defense and in the obstacle of my own rage and terror.
It is complicated.
When your darkness is over, my own light can resurface. You must go so I can survive. Survivor's guilt.

and, I am grateful.