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The Embrace


In the aftermath of manufacturing insatiable feelings of lust

I lie here waiting to be held

Protecting my innocence like some ancient Mongolian warrior protecting its future king,

I am willing to put my life on the line

And appear much bigger than myself

To hide the grieving child inside of me.

So there I was being held by the woman of the night

Who was there only temporarily to warm my sheets

And lend me her maternal instincts

To cradle me

As I lay there

In the fetal position.

It was there in that moment

That I gave birth to

And held the little child,

My younger self,

The child that was continually

Neglected and love malnourished.

I never fathomed

Nor felt

The profundity

Of the pain

My inner boy held.

How could I ??

I was too busy protecting him

Even from my grown self

To realize I did not know;

Whilst I tussled

With the pillow sanctioned in between my thighs

And seeking the warm embrace of the mother’s touch

That the little boy inside

Was being smothered

Amongst the fabric

And the sweat from my body

Unable to breath,

To be heard,

And to be healed.

How can I nurture a little boy to become a man

When I was not nurtured that way???

When instead

I had to learn

To be tame

And separate myself from my pure raw essence

In order to fit in.

The little boy inside has been screaming

To be heard

But often silenced

By the blaring siren

Of thoughts

Of becoming more,

Producing more,

Making more money

And not being good enough.

It was hard for me to be still in the silence,

For in that silence

I would get glimpses and

Hear the shrieks

Of that little boy.

The desperation to be heard,

To be coddled,

To be nurtured,

To be healed.

No wonder I could not rest.

I constantly tossed and turned.

Navigating whether to be held

Or lie there in solace

Between the cool sheets.


To not feel

The little boys anxiety,


But more importantly

Feel the untamed animal

That he represented

And that I carried within.

The very animalistic essence

Was begging

To be freed

From this cage.

To love without limits,

Without conditions

Or strategies,

Without the fear of being hurt.

For on those rare occasions

When I listened,

I mean really listened,

To the shrieks

Of that little boy inside

Of my essence

As I laid in the fetal position

Trying to protect him

While strangling the pillow

The tears would roll down my face

Because I knew that my animal,

The innocence of that little boy,

Was being caged


By the stigmas of society

To fit in.

I also wondered

What would it be like to escape;

To plan a full all out jailbreak

Of my animal inner self,

The little boy?

Who could help me?

Once fully reunited

Where would I go?

How would life look like?

Was I really willing to annihilate

All that I know

To explore the unknown?

I don’t know but,

I know that I need to take the chance

Tto molt,

To metamorphosize,

To mend the person

I proclaim myself to be

With my inner self,

My animal,

The little boy.

I am starting to understand the saying

Heal the boy

And the man shall appear

For to become a father

I first must learn

To be a son.

Maybe all these years

I laid in the fetal position

Seeking warmth

From a strange woman’s outstretched arm

And the heat of her body

Cradling me

I was really seeking a surrogate mother

To nurture me

So I can feel like a son again.

No wonder I had such a hard time being a house-binder.


I think I am ready

To turn over on my side,

To hold my woman,

Not just someone

Who was there

To pass

The night away


Warm my sheets,

As a man

With strength

And vulnerability

Understanding that

I don’t have to protect

That little boy,

My inner self,

My animal

Any more


He has become me….

And I am healed.

And I am husband.

And I am father.


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