Patterns In The Sand

It's been too long
since we've drawn our rings in the sand.

These patterns force us over our boundaries
and reinforce this emptiness
that our heart calls home.

I draw my strength from moments of theatre.
The lie that I hold onto
to keep this solid ground as my base.

I give it all up
to have one moment
of completeness.

I give it all up
to call you home
and see the lie in your eyes again.

My heart is a black hole,
a sentry to a soul drawn outside itself
more times than it can handle.

A spirit distorted and stretched like taffy
tortured by the blank walls
of a prison I've grown into.

This lie is my father
my mother
my love.

And I can't imagine being without it,
the lie I call home.

by Andrew Hussey

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