I lingered back in fear of her seeing the true gunmetal encompassed between the towering walls within my shallow mind
She drew circles around me but I could not sense the direction in which I was supposed to be heading
I knew that this time I couldn’t allow her to lure me into the obscure whispers she heard every night from outside her windows
I came to the conclusion that her sanity was as far fetched as another life-bearing vessel within the smooth, empty waters that flooded my brain
The wavering riptides swallow me whole every time I find myself stirring at the surface of something contemporary
She leaves me wondering, drawing me in as I try so desperately to hang back until I can plant my feet
She leaves me awake at night to confront my own neglected stances while she nevertheless strings me like a marionette
She is my fuel behind a biddable fire, the cause of my cicatrix, and the cure