Hold still, hold still and I’ll hold you, still.
You moved too fast today, pulled in quick to push away
and I missed you. Missed you in present,
a tense I wanted to cling too, a past not ready to be had.
A thought to catch you near me blinked before it brang,
and I was left to see the smudge of an image
that was too changeable, too uncertain to tame.

You had that way about you, that look.
I was drawn by the light only to fall for the dark,
confused and manipulated into wanting to stay
circling something that pitched itself from worship
and flung itself into being the illusive, uninvited idolatry.
You shook, you skitted from one self to another,
passing your personality like a burden you had,
and nothing would make you stop to bear the cross.

It wasn’t that I wanted to save you,
wanted to change a changeling void of sustenance,
more that I wanted to make you pause for breath,
breathe in the sent of yourself and let your lungs fill.
But you knew, knew that to stop would bring the spinning
to hurl you off the world you were part of and realise,
above all other things, above all truths, that you were you.

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