Walking on the Green Hills

Walking on the green hills I met the man made of chalk.
He said to me “where are you going? Come with me I will keep you safe, all you have to do is give me your heart, your spirit and your hot breath upon my brow.”
I reach out to offer my hand, pulling back at the last minute.
I say to him “why do you need my heart? Why do you need my spirit? You can feel my hot breath on your brow, you can feel my heart beating next to yours, and you can feel my spirit soaring through the skies next to yours.”
His eyes fill with tears and he meets my gaze, “I don’t want to feel it, I want to be it. Give them to me and you will never want for anything ever again. I shall keep you safe, I will love you like no other and I will feed your soul with the wind.”
I start to walk away, shouting over my shoulder, “You ask for too much and give too little in return. If I don’t have my heart, how would I feel? What would I yearn for? If I do not have my spirit how can you feed my soul? You would take all of me and give only the basics I need to survive.” I stop and sweep my arms across the land. “How can you deny me all this? How could I deny myself all this? The opportunities in the land and the love of my sisters. All those different possibilities that would pass me by if I gave it all up for a passing whim of yours.”
I move away, out of his reach. I travel along the hills, flirting with the wind as She lifts my hair above my head, a gentle hand in mine, guiding me to solace. I walk and walk, leaving the wind behind, my thoughts too heavy, the green man echoing in my thoughts. Images of how it would be, of the comfort I would feel, security, no fear of the unknown. Acceptance. I see the choices I would make without making them, the sequential line of time that would be my life. Control taken away, yet simple and safe at the same time. He would be my lover but nowhere near my heart. My heart that calls out for complete satisfaction, for the one who excites me both body and mind. I face the sun and reach out, to call my love to me. My voice fails me. I can only mouth the words I want to say. All I can hear is the man made of chalk.
I squat down on a stone. Cold, dead between my legs. I feel the weight of this stone, pulling me with it, the pull of him. I struggle and howl deep inside, my eyes closed, my jaw clenched, wishing for release.
I hear her howl. I hear her cry. The wild woman hunts her prey. I pull her from my inside me, attached by an invisible cord. A cord that can never be broken. A bread crumb path, but a nevertheless a path.
She cloaks me in her strength and leads the way. I drink from her cup; revitalised my eyes open, I see, I see all. She shows me the man made of chalk. She points to the bones of his past, the women he had, the ones at his core. Her hand closes over mine. A key lies bleeding in my hand. I watch in horror, the bile rising in my mouth. This is what he wants from me. The anger, the indignation, the fear, explodes from my core. The games he plays! How dare he! To make me feel, make me think I am nothing without him. To use his weakness as mine. To steal my power, my essence to maintain his. I look at the key; it is just a key, as he is just a man. I toss it away into his mouth and watch as the blood brings the bones alive. As each woman is freed. Each one different and yet the same. All connected to my cord, my call that drowns out the man made of chalk.
We walk hand in hand, past his boneless mind, onto the undiscovered road behind.