Cycles of fire

SOC Writing _ 27.9.21

Cycles of fire

Burns me – like Sheol – burns me down – this supposed to clear the whole house off the ground – razed to dirt – only then can we properly begin again. Gone – the vestiges of support and security – all the ways you like to secure yourself so that you feel properly tethered to your life - they are disappearing – and the mind – the mind that traversed the solid ground is also burning down – each pathway giving way – floor caved in – dropping down – through to a more subterranean field – my blood lust for you is somewhere in this, pulsating at a staggering rate - like it could tip the cosmos into chaos and start a storm that would re-create everything – everything inside me like a kaleidoscope – like a caterpillar becoming a mucus pus before it recreates itself with the stuff given from god. From its own inbuilt creativity – I am falling – free falling like Tom Petty – hands out the car in the wind diving like a seagull – I am ecstatic at my core and still this boyhood wounding is turning up with a vengeance – my normal ways of coping with this – shutting down, shutting out – self protection will not stand in the maelstrom of a fire storm – will not stand the 6 weeks of pelting pain that require a metamorphosis - a fucking evolution quickly to a new plane - because of my love for you and my desire to stay in this with you – soul from the same mother in my mother wound I feel it all and with the support of plant, people and earth - I move through the re- telling of painful story – re-creating through play and foolery – something that really works for me. Really suits who I am much more that the pale sheath that I’ve given you so far – I hurt, I want, I am. There is nothing but head wards.