The Stranger

Well, he's gone, integrated into a stranger
Nothing reflective of the familiar home
Of a safe haven, nooks and crannies that
I buried myself in, in bliss
He is gone, in his place, this stranger
His cordiality an insult to my existence
I cannot see beneath him
This must be my cue to exit
My legs paralyzed
My wounded heart conflicted
He seems to be saying something,
It's lost on me
It is hard to listen
When the very ground I stand on
Is being pulled underneath me
Would you accept grace and cordiality
From storms, tempest and being rendered homeless
Knowing what distractions they bring forth?
Being trustworthy, consistent and dependable
Have lost meaning, all left to me is forgiveness
An act of kindness towards him and myself
For the part played in keeping this foreboding walls up
For consciously and unconsciously labouring on it
I extend my hand and offer it to this stranger
Willing him to take off this mask
As I beg my legs to find their footing
Carry me out of my torment
To re-write my script.

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