They’re putting their hooks in me and pulling me down, when I want to fly. Pulling me back to sanity, to reason. But I crave the insanity of the unknown. I dance at the edge of belief; tease the unknown, lure it like a wild tiger. Come closer, I plead, knowing I will end up torn and bloody. Knowing that I would rather be mauled by that which lurks in my imagination, than pampered by that which sings from inside a golden cage.
Forever forward, I choose the road of danger, the path dirty and overgrown with wildflowers. I follow the forest line, out of the city, to the place where silence intoxicates and no voice propels me to submit.
Words will drip from my fingertips, they will continue to weave stories, perhaps bold and brave, or perhaps in reflection they will be foolish.
But they will come from that inner place of unsatisfied hunger, that soul's desire for something wild, something stronger than me, something that can never be tamed.
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