My Constant

Your voice
presses down,
shouldering
its way into
my mind.

I can feel you
dripping
from me,
leaving evidence
for me to find
when I think
I’m rid of you.

Your sticky words
walk on my skin,
burrow below,
and live,
feed on my time,
on my need.

You are my constant.

My hovering familiar,
my master,
my peace.

Your chains
pull me closer
yet I am free.

~Patience

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