Cocoon.

I am tired and spent. All the words have gone out of me and I want to crawl into a cocoon for months, recuperate, sit silent. And when I come out, I want to be reborn.

I ache for rest and to be full to the brim. I am dry and brittle, pessimistic and bitter. Harsher than sandpaper.

So smooth me down.

I'll crawl into your embrace so you can remake me.

Take me, as I am, and do as you will. Have your way. I'm stretching out, ready for your winds of change. Maybe I'm just lying down because I'm tired, so tired, and I crave the peace and rest you hold. I'm tired, and doing this thing on my own is no fun.

I want to stand in sunlight again, a new creation,
changed and revolutionized.

I want shiny new wings, dipped in light and fresh waters.

I'm folding myself into your ways, falling into your will, collapsing upon your strength.

All I ask is that you make me a new creation.

Here I am.

Yours.