this was the turning point

It said listen to the sound, it sounded like me
Didn’t look like me, it said
But it spoke like me.
They were strangely, words of familiarity
And I felt comfortably at ease listening to the sound of them being spoken.
It said I could trust it, lulled the words at me more like
And they huddled around me,
cradled me safely
And I could do nothing short of hear it.
It whispered softly of leather hard places
I only assumed one shouldn’t touch on,
But it reached on in and it told me to look.
I stared into it.
It’s words still cradling me, I peeked into it,
over some edge I couldn’t see
And into a cesspool of related things.
It said not to fear it, but I was afraid,
And it said it knew.
It continued to comb through those places,
Kneed through them with a thick tug
‘til they were left a bit softer.
It said it couldn’t break through it, though,
And it said only I could do it,
But it sounded like me.



words can't explain