Of Animals

by HelluvaGirl

I’ve been disciplining myself; I’ve been instilling the skill of discretion to the point of becoming afraid to write what I thought or felt, even in my private folders and journals. It was like my stream of inner voices was safer locked, muted, kept in a ward-sized plexiglass box which I’d pass swiftly in the evening hours, with no time or courage to stop while passing by and watch.

Tonight, the loneliness is fierce. It pangs my lungs as I try to breath deeply. Yet I chose it over a company of other spirits, and yes: if I could, I would call Genius tonight.

I know that restlessness; I’ve succumbed to it and was disappointed as it never brought any resurrection.

Right now, I’m angrily missing a force so powerful as to tame me. The chain dangles.