I love being in so deep, quitting is laughable.
I live in a machine of my own design that keeps pumping while I sleep.
I’m the most important person on my own mountain. A world that ceases to exist if I do.
You can visit. Pull up an iron daisy.
You’ll never understand where I’m coming from, but don’t worry. No one will understand you, either. Human language is inadequate.
Words will fail you. Aura will be misread sometimes…if you even have the ability to see it.
Just know, it is equal parts beautiful to lonely. Equal parts encouraging to discouraging.
The sun always shines, here. It’s your mountain. You get to choose.
You weave through the iron daisies as you make your way back to your mountain. The daisies are probably soft and fragrant where you come from. But...it may be dark at night. Maybe, you prefer the moon. You may have a guard dog or a sentinel. I’d love to visit one day. Maybe, you’ll let me see.
Me? My daisies are iron.
“Jackie Land” – Written March 5, 2020
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