The voices that come and go
Push me there and back
Right to the very edge
Then back
Like a yoyo in the hands
Of my conscience
I hang on a thin thread
Every other minute
I'm undone
It is sweet huddled up
In this warm cocoon
Must the butterfly be born
Can it not stay a larvae?
I let love in
I made it reign
Now it demands more
That I be brave
Nowhere to hide
It's broad daylight
No more shadows
For cover ups
Every filthy linen
Was washed, and dried
And I stand naked
Void of shame
To burst out
And blind mortal eyes
With colours never before seen
To remember
That I too can fly
And leap
That...
Is the script.
But the world
Is a large, gaping
Abyss of the known unknowns
.....
And I'm afraid to face it.
