To unravel,
And make easy all my inner workings for you to understand,
Would make me a feeble shadow of myself.
A weakling.
Cowering at sudden movements and,
hidden in-between the lines of a life void of living.
Simple is easy. And I know am far from that.
I am knotted and
tangled and
mixed up...
Stronger-together-with myself than I could ever be straightened out.
I am a complication of hopes and dreams and rainy afternoons where the sun comes out and surprises you.
I am wild.
And I have set my daemons free to roam, so that I may enter the gates of heaven with no regrets.