• Michaela

Where Are You?

I choke on screams, tears hot and piling, refusing to drop.

This panic wells, not subsiding, barely ebbing before growing

And there is no one to save, no knave, no culprit, no higher-than-I,

There is no one to answer, no one with words I crave, there is

No going back.

Like the child who bursts out into light, eyes squinched in first sight,

There is no closing them again to instruction's illumination,

No rejecting the truth, and it doesn't feel like salvation, doesn't seem

Any amount of cogitation will result in aught but abnegation

I can't detract. There is a folding inwards, a curling, a winding of the spring,

My back curved against breaking, mind tucked into heart for safe keeping,

Hands clasped to cease their shaking but my skin starts vibrating with

Potential energy convalescing and tension still progressing until I

Finally release

Without "Lord" what can I be? I shall have to see, looking beyond the mirage

That is dominion of thirsty wanderers--for I drink deep at Connla's Well

And find divinity in the quenchèd self.

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