She, who’ll never be.

She may never be your’s,
May never be who you wish she’d be.

She may never be your leading light that shows the way,
But be the blinding darkness that engulfs & consumes your every sway.

She may never be the fire engine, swooping into your rescue.
But be the very fire that ignites the depths of your heart, spinning its beat askew.

She may never be your anchor, founding you into your stance.
But be the very wind that pulls you along, forced to keep rhythm to her dance.

She may never be the soothing warmth of your day,
But be the unsettling cold that chills your flesh & makes your bones rattle away.

She may never be the music that soothes you to sleep,
But be the big bang that jolts you awake from the stagnation you ohh so grudgingly keep.

She will hurl you into the unknown, push you against the tide,
Drown you in testing waters, but always by your stride.
She’s not meek nor mild nor gentle, definitely not some disappearing rime,
But she personifies dignity & elegance like she owns the goddamn time.

She’ll be the thunder, the storm, the fright,
The veiled mystery of a silent dark night.
She’ll be anything you wish not to see,
Because baby, that is who she chooses to be.