I can feel you.

Let Me LIVE!

I hear the sound of your voice,

walking on my insides

around the words I see your face-

Paint me into place!

I can feel you press against my conscious.

The enormity of you, and I am afraid.

Can I give you the life you are begging for?

Will my weak attempts at breath leave you asthmatic?

Congested? Fatigued?

Will I see the sadness in your countenance

as you gaze into the pools

dismayed at your reflection?

I am only made in the image and likeness.

I am no god

I am no creator

You place a single grain of sand into my hand




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