dragonflower

a fragment:

i love it when someone's poetic honesty just slips out in a moment of awe.
especially as i find myself more often filled with fear. odd times, odd reasons. these times. it is not because of strength that i might feel myself an island. if i did, it would be out of loneliness, fear, a feeling of freakishness, silence.
the long and invisible fingers of a regime i detest have gripped my heart in ice from afar, the rock to their own fanatical hard place.
this isn't what i see when i walk down the street, and still... perhaps it stems from a childhood curiosity: i always had to move big objects, pick up rocks, etc. just to see what may be hiding in the dark and muck beneath.