The Beast
Close to my head a monster lurks. Although she seems tranquil, her sounds
I fear.
She's dangerous, but delicate. There's a music to her roar, a gentleness.
Like most beings, there's more to her. Underneath
the thick cover--skin--lies her heart.
Pumping.
Blub bum blub bum blub bum blub bum. It's melodic
like the song of her soul. Yet, she
is fear(ful).
She's afraid of walls
and lights
just as she is afraid of
freedom
and darkness.
Walls treat her as equal, encouraging her to find light. And for this she runs deep
into her own mind.
Just as those who fear her, she runs--retreating.
And it makes sense to
retreat,
to be where it is silent. Where loneliness has settled in the air, and everything feels
familiar.
Retreat.
I understand her.
She is an elegant beauty dressed for a ball with no one to accompany
her.
I am an intelligent being with no one to understand me. We are one,
she and I.
And it seems it has always been like this.
In some cosmic way
we fit,
sold separately
but when our presences collide
it is well.