Back to Where Your Heart Is

"Never apologize for showing feeling. When you do so, you apologize for the truth."

Oh how they hang from her. Hypnotized by her scrutinizingly innocent eyes.
Weave me my ideal they beg. Show me what I want to see.
Be who I cannot find and I shall worship, I shall inhale your very existence.
Like the final flame of humanity, they cradle and protect her from the elements.
My own. My love. My secret. My wonder.
Possession to its fullest extent and this muse imprisons herself.

Who created thee? Who breathed you into life my ladylove?
What entity... what artist... sculpted this most perfect beauty?
And as they raise the pedestal higher and higher still,
eyes wide open they fail to see.

A metamorphic ghost. A shell missing its core.
Life simply without breath. Without organs.
And blood. And flesh.
She is but an ever-changing wisp of hollowed time.

And through triumphant failures will they climb.
Proclamation and creed their only just cause.
Stitching ever so carefully a blanket of conformity that will devour her.

Come one, come all to attempt this feat and jest in masked glory.
But be weary for the fates are against you.
For the winds will unravel her. And the waters will cleanse her.
The sun will warm and awaken her beating heart.
The earth will take her from your pedestal and lay her gently upon its surface,
and you will finally see...
... who I am. Who I was. Who I will be.
And only then will your love be free.