Victory

Your world is all that matters

You are God in your mind

You will always be rooted to who you are

Which is itself a victory

You are not the howling rabbit

The fox whose foot is caught in the trap bleeding out

Gnawing on her limbs in a feeble attempt to free herself

You cannot grasp the serpentine temptation

the comment striking as danger

Just a touch outside the ordinary

That hot shiny feeling of your froggy heart flying up your throat

Or like a pretty little pebble settling in the center of your chest cavity

It is my original sin

The curse of intuition

of unconditional love and tender blood

That strange yearning you can’t make sense of

The profound inability to piece together who you are