The Torn Chrysalis
I’ve done what I could and yet the chrysalis grew,
I curled up inside, all around me it drew.
What made me itch and crave for the sun?
Perhaps the roar of the waves.
But in truth all I really craved
was the warmth of another’s
Breath on my cheek.
I stretched and then came the tear and with it an ache.
An ache from the sense that I know what I have,
that once I cross the invisible divide,
I will have nowhere to hide, the whole lot erased.
The camouflage of safety resides in the familiar,
Once I step outside, I’ll have to strive and cajole,
spin a new web of connections,
to reach out and belong.
Obstacles will seem brighter, under this red hot sun,
All the shadows much darker and from behind these I must come.
