An ode, a murmur, an urge, the faint whisper constantly drumming away in the back of your head.
They call me, beckoning, watching, waiting.
I will join them eventually.
You will not always live the life you need.
Were the first words she ever said to me
Cementing her into my life forever.
She lounges in the back of my consciousness, chiding.
She is all-knowing. We are one.
I was (am) so young.
But the children should be indoctrinated into reality,
The hopeless writer moans.
What is unreal about freeing yourself from our nonsensical structures?
To join your soul with the grass.
The whisper is getting louder now. I will join it one day.
That is my destiny
Peace can be found in it.