I am cut to the quick –
Betrayal slices open my heart and walks away
There will be no solace from the west – only predators.
My anger is covered over with Labradorite layers of hurt
The slow flame shining through the rock
But there is no burning off the sorrow.
Strength is drowning in my deep well.
My deep well – no longer safe – cannot/will not bring me home.
I am rudderless on the black ocean of stars – it is quiet except for my pain.
A swirling, spinning spiral swallows each one in its chaotic grip
At a word.
It is voracious. Its name is Rumor. There are many children.
How do I move through the lies thick as honey – to see a sunrise?
When everything falls away, who will be gone?
Will I know myself?
Will I be whole?
What will I be?