rising.

This need bubbles up in my soul.
A feeling that months of hibernation
could not squelch.
A thirst that has not yet
been quenched.
An unextinquished flame.
I had thought.
For so long I had thought
that she had crushed me.
Crushed the small, quiet bloom
of my naivete.
A discarded idea.
A distorted image.
Turned inward on itself and
sleeping in the safety of the familiar.
How could I believe?
How could I have hoped that I?
I could awaken again?