The crack in thy mask

"The day will come where you will be tested. Again. "

I hate that.
No, I don't hate, hate it.
I fear it. I fear what it brings,
& what it means.

But mostly, I fear...
That it may actually even mean something.
I can be weak. Fucking weak.
Human.

The thrill of the chase,
the wind weaving through my hair,
the breeze caressing my skin,
the droplets of kisses from the rain...

I feel the excitement & feed off it with great relish.
Dancing around the dotted lines which not only defines my boundaries,
but also attempts to structure them.
Pah! Spit in your face I shall!
Rein me in, you Shall not!!

But... for this, I have.
I have held myself back for what its worth.
Held myself in whilst repeating over and over and over again that it's all worth IT.
To convince who?
Other people?
Or me?

That this is better off for "me" in the long run.
That no matter how much I desire the other side, the cost is not justified.
That the push for any other change, is simply not worth IT.

Yet the ache is there.
It gnaws at me from within,
searching if not for an opportunity to be released,
then to haunt me,
to mock me,
to enslave me.
It has never ceased.

Wars, I've battled them. Turbulence is nothing new.
But to grip me when I am weak.
That's just low.

At this point, I may manage to hold the fort down.
Without something foolproof however-
I am but a mere lamb to slaughter when the devil comes a'knocking.

I am well aware
Extremism applied on my self does not bode well with this nature of mine.
Even the extremes which I've come to accept & undertake due to requirement / commitment / responsibility / whatever,
it does not take particularly long before I begin to reject them over and again.

The necessary & unnecessary evil which resides within
who else,
but me?


I look into the mirror and ask the one who peers back:
"The black and the white which makes up for my colours of meek,
when shall you reach for the Grey I seek?"

O' not today, not today, lil' one.
Not today.