limping Joy

Crippling, the way you look at me and

gaze at me and try

to reach beyond me,

into my head where I guard my secrets,

deeply. 

 

There is a darkness to me

a reek the slowly penitrates every level

of who I am and

I would not want you to see that,

touch that or draw too close...

it might just take you. 

 

So I draw off the moths that grow

restless in my light, dragging

the flames of hope back and away from my body,

focusing joy towards you.

Author's Note

dedicated to a friend who might have been more