on grace

I realised I'd slipped out of her shadow, though I couldn't mark the moment that I left. A gentle fading, like the tide being pulled back towards the moon.

I filed my fangs, retracted my claws. I am no longer whirlwinds and howling rain. I am no longer romancing my demons, courting them with hisses, building walls to keep us cosy in our aching.

Although the fear may still rise, I know that it will no longer knock me off my feet.
After so many years it is finished.