Now it remains that I perform the more important work of self. It is the dark task of my soul and the deep water of my physical and mental bondage. It is what has always been and those who have loved me most bear the scars of battle. For the person I have become there is the great fear of self-destruction, for at times I truly have no control. It is not a ruffle of discord that can be passed by but a deep shaking terror of what I may do if left to none but my own devices. The forces that drive me and people like me may be the strongest forces in nature. Deceptive in the conversations and easy laughter that draws others in and has them feed. It can be silent in the deepest part of me like something glittering below the surface. A cunning animal that narrows its eyes as it smiles and waits; a beautiful piece of poison. There is that which tears apart the skin of the earth and there is that which pulls inward to the heart of where we all really live. Reaching out its hand from the deep cavern where it lives and pulling in piece by bloody piece of what remains good.

Robin Dawson