affection

So little of me is yet worked out

that I doubt I'll ever reach the teacher's point

of joining together the splintered bits in a chiselled

vision of the composite whole - the integral being.

Agree as I might what constitutes me now,

the roundness wobbles and I change to dangerous shapes,

gaping apart - in panic rejecting channels

I'd planned to use as modes of going places.

Facing up to my inner psyche is a task

I ask myself to undertake, but I'm scared

at daring what could transform into instant nightmare

fright, as secret furtive curtains get lifted.

It's hard to build a castle from inside,

upon foundations where the sand may slide.