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Description

Don't you understand?
How can I explain this to you?

It may seem unreal, and ridiculous, and fantasy, and delusional
but it is far worse than that.

It's creative.

He came off, at first, as a wistful idea. A simple, villainous
thing that served a purely antagonistic role in piece of literature.
He was an ominous mystery and Abraham was my main focus.
But now it's come so far--too far??

He takes a step and my stance wavers.
His voice vibrates and I'm on my knees.
He hovers, inches from behind, and the scar--tender, soft, impressionable--
aches with a palatable sting.
He's left a mark. He's done his job. He's grown bigger than the sky
but has remained at my eye-level to keep me nervous. The red from his
eyes is so sharp that he stays strong in my memory. Every instant the
shadows appear, he is there. I thought I owned the authority, I'm sure
I still do, but I'm far from being in control.

He is the dragon in the darkness.
The undertone of muted agony.
The raw source of sharpened pride.
When it comes to him I am never certain what to say or feel.

I say, "No," but that backwards stroke rubs me wrong, so I say, "Yes."
And repeat.
He is life that doesn't breathe.
He is rock that doesn't erode.
He is the opposite of rest without satisfaction.
He clings to me without hands and scores me with no weapon.

I may forget,
I may retry,

But I am now never without him.

Description

Don't you understand?
How can I explain this to you?

It may seem unreal, and ridiculous, and fantasy, and delusional
but it is far worse than that.

It's creative.

He came off, at first, as a wistful idea. A simple, villainous
thing that served a purely antagonistic role in piece of literature.
He was an ominous mystery and Abraham was my main focus.
But now it's come so far--too far??

He takes a step and my stance wavers.
His voice vibrates and I'm on my knees.
He hovers, inches from behind, and the scar--tender, soft, impressionable--
aches with a palatable sting.
He's left a mark. He's done his job. He's grown bigger than the sky
but has remained at my eye-level to keep me nervous. The red from his
eyes is so sharp that he stays strong in my memory. Every instant the
shadows appear, he is there. I thought I owned the authority, I'm sure
I still do, but I'm far from being in control.

He is the dragon in the darkness.
The undertone of muted agony.
The raw source of sharpened pride.
When it comes to him I am never certain what to say or feel.

I say, "No," but that backwards stroke rubs me wrong, so I say, "Yes."
And repeat.
He is life that doesn't breathe.
He is rock that doesn't erode.
He is the opposite of rest without satisfaction.
He clings to me without hands and scores me with no weapon.

I may forget,
I may retry,

But I am now never without him.