On the Shuttle to Nowheresville

There is a force inside me.  I can’t resist it.  A deep primal urge.  I can’t ignore it. 

I find myself creating something I do not want to create, crawling into a place where I do not want to be. 

I liked my life.  I liked the taste of the green leaves.  I liked surveying the world from the brown branches.  I liked listening to the birds singing next to me.  I don’t want to be hidden.  I don’t want to be shut away.

The darkness comes crashing in. 

Chrysalis is such an ugly word. 

What if this kills me?