There is no clear moment when the change sets in,
No preciseness in its hold.
One day, it just has you.
A cold, unfriendly grip,
One you tried to ignore for so long.
But part of that grip has the strangest warmth,
Which feels like the warm sun rays on the softest of fall days.
I don’t really know which this grip is.
It is both.
A sad medium.
It is the cold truth which I have tried so hard to deny.
The loneliness which it will bring with.
And it is also the warmth of myself being free.
The sunrays warming
the old bits of me that fell dormant
It’s an awakening,
that this change brings.
And whether it’s
truly a cold or warm thing
that has grabbed my struggling heart,
There was no precision,
\And now, my eyes are open.