The old plea of pleases

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’.

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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