Poetry

It’s as if
There’s a stranger
He entered this dark enclosure
Mind you
Meant to be
PRIVATE
And yet
There he is
She?
It?
I’m possessed like a wild man, a banshee
I have been captivated by a body that won’t let me escape
Strange enough
Without an odd man to jumble the mess
I’m afraid,
This stranger
Has been hiding in the corners
And shadows
For more than a decade
Ridiculous it sounds
That my life encompasses this expanse of time
The time to ridicule is later
Tell me now
Who is this stranger
Deranged to some
Eclectic and epileptic
How have we just crossed paths
When you’ve resided in me
For YEARS
Perhaps you are malicious
Ah
I understand
Fear perhaps?
Shame or anger
No
I simply did not understand
And so I could not see my stranger
Yes, mine
Ours
I would like with my whole heart to accept you
Some cannot ignore the harm you create
But they must understand
You did not create it
You are not the artist
It has been in creation for millennia
Siphoned from the ground like the pools of oil
Carrying power and energy
With it, misguidance
And surely misguidance of such a power explains where we are now
Everyone
Me
And the rooted ones
And the trotting ones
And the walking ones
And the placid ones
And the flowing ones