The Quicksand Shrine

I tried to study you since the first time you held me.

And the more I grew into your own features,

The more your joy disappeared and you

Distanced yourself from everything that I was.

I ran into so many different directions

That there was nothing left of me,

Nothing binding, nothing concentrated.


I looked at you; your mind in faraway countries.

Did you run away, leave everything behind, or did you

Escape? You hid every single root from me and told me

That I was an aerial creature, a balloon about to burst.

You are made out of contradictions. Deconstructions of

Love and hate reside within you, everything is grey matter.

Everything is a ruin of a ruin, the leftovers of wasted lives.

Frederic_Leighton_-_Helen_On_The_Walls_Of_Troy 3

“Helen On The Walls Of Troy” by Frederic Leighton, 1st Baron Leighton (1830-1896)

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