octapus

Are you my chosen one?
     Your face distorted and haggard
      Screaming for enveloping tentacles
        to smother you with security.
I pace back and forth looking
      for some way to reach you.
        To make you my own.
The power to create, the
      inspiration required,
I desire.
I touch your eyes, nose, lips, chin
      feeling the years
        past which have permanently
          scarred your facade.
Taking a step closer,
The frailness of your body emerges
From under the burden of humanity.
We walk side by side, searching
     for possibilities, for something
       to liberate us from the
         shackles of the human
Race.
Those who have come before
      us push us into the blackhole of
         uncertainty. I
Cry your name, but you
      do not hear me.
I know that you are there.
Through the darkness
                   I see your reflection, only to
Find myself.