Arms.
Pull me close in arms.
Mystical shaking from astral exploration. Tend my physical body while I fly.
Because, the reading of an old text alights my spirit almost too easily.
A mystical proclivity circumscribed in existential insecurity,
Because how and who am I?
You tell me what you see.
But, press me close to you, so I don’t runaway at what you say.
Held dear until freed.
Then, left as a tree shaking out dead leaves,
recalling, in newly resounding silence,
the originally begged pleas of ‘please’.
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Author: writtencasey
I am fascinated by the scientific endeavor and I read about or engage with those processes as much as possible. I am a compulsive reader and writer.
With a background in anthropology and as an arm-chair/backyard scientist, I hope to improve my writing skills and learn about any areas of weakness or misunderstanding in my analytic skills.
I am excited to share. Thank you for spending time here.
Please reach out if you are so inclined. I'd be excited to hear from you.
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WrittenCasey 