Moving Inside

Moving inside

The tear was there before I started, before I said a word,

Such feelings mixed of guilt of rage which pushed up hard inside.

A twist of nerves so physical, the thought becomes so felt.

And no logic nor calm reasoning can trim them down to size.

The remedy to thoughts so grave, to shatterings of hope,

Lies merely in a human touch, a word, a subtle brush.

My friend was there with such a word, well-mulled, prepared with love,

The only wish he had – I saw – was to wash my worries clean.

He uttered this considered cure, confined it to my ears,

But this alone does not suffice to stem the flow of tears.

His arms don’t reach to wipe my cheek, or calm the pulsing flow,

Of panicked blood which rushes through to redden both my cheeks.

Once all is said my ears are dumb, my skin now yearns for help,

A contact friendly, physical, and human, all in one,

To fill the gap of family and lovers still to find.

No arm strikes out, no head just tilts, no offering to grasp,

I see another wet globe form, my troubles aren’t my own.

The Unknown

It's what we fear more than anything but it's also what we cling to for comfort and promise.
It's how some of us reason religion.
Sometimes we get a sexual tingle from thinking there's a stranger lurking in the dark.
And we always, always, think we can control it.
Sometimes maybe it's better to just trust and try and appease it by making sure the known is as tip-top as possible.

That's how I'm going to live from this second on. As far as I know, it's a good idea.

PS. In writing this I've realised it's impossible for me to try and write the word in the title without omitting the first 'n'. Clearly, spelling of phenomenon which inspire is also something unkown to me.
Try it for yourself.