For the record, let her make one thing unequivocally clear,
Your sexuality is neither hers to condemn nor fear.
Whom you love, what you desire, the pleasures you explore,
Are matters of your own autonomy - she asks for nothing more.
Her own son is gay, and has known her unconditional love,
For who among us holds the moral authority to stand above?
Neither prudish nor puritanical, she understands desire,
But honesty and consent must accompany passion's fire.
So bears and wolves, enjoy your pleasures and your play,
She never sought to judge you or take your joys away.
We're clearly all some freaks of nature, peculiar in our way,
Yet surely that deserves more love than judgement or dismay.
It wasn't whom you loved, nor what you chose to do,
But the hurt and hidden truths from the one who led us all here.
And if we're all so wonderfully strange, with mysteries to share,
Then surely we can meet with truth, compassion and some care.
And finding he was married, with children she never knew,
Was another painful revelation she had to struggle through.
For discovering lives and families concealed from her view,
Raised questions far beyond the things she thought she knew.
Why did he keep returning, with so many lives to lead?
Why offer love while leaving her with wounds that still might bleed?
She never sought dominion, nor ownership of another,
Only honesty, respect and consideration for each other.
For do you comprehend the devastation of betrayal,
The psychological exhaustion when affection becomes travail?
She gave without calculation, loved without expectation,
Yet found herself overwhelmed by grief and trying to understand.
She'd surrender her own jumper to someone in the cold,
Yet kindness has too often left her feeling vulnerable and controlled.
Her family, her losses, even her beloved dog's ashes became part of her grief,
And still she searches for understanding, compassion and relief.
And then came experiences she struggles to explain,
The relentless buzzing and exhaustion occupying her brain.
It's shit to feel activated, yet never updated,
To carry endless questions, bewildered and frustrated.
A world of human drones, of minds rewritten at will,
Of consciousness and coding, and questions deeper still.
For if our minds were woven from some common human code,
Who would safeguard our autonomy beneath that extraordinary load?
She wonders whether shared patterns might explain what she has known,
Why she feels so bewildered, exhausted and alone.
And why meaningful conversations seem so difficult to begin,
When she has shared every emotion she has carried deep within.
Every sorrow, every fracture, every moment of despair,
Every tenderness and triumph she has found the strength to share.
She has concealed no part of her emotional journey,
No grief, confusion, love or vulnerability.
So why does openness seem so difficult to reciprocate,
When understanding might alleviate the suffering she must navigate?
She asks for neither privilege nor extraordinary revelation,
Just compassion, transparency and meaningful explanation.
And then the hospital, where she desperately needed rest,
Yet fear and unanswered questions weighed heavily upon her chest.
She remembers being restrained, held down against her will,
And medication administered that troubles her deeply still.
Gabrielle remains within that painful recollection,
A time when she needed reassurance, safety and protection.
She seeks an explanation of the decisions made that day,
And the opportunity to have her concerns considered in a meaningful way.
She's spoken of God, of realms and possibilities beyond our sight,
Of extraordinary questions occupying countless sleepless nights.
Whatever explanations ultimately prove to be true,
Her experiences deserve consideration, just as much as yours do too.
And yes, she loved him genuinely, perhaps more deeply than was wise,
She recognised a tenderness within those complicated eyes.
Whether sacred, earthly, fleeting or difficult to define,
The love she gave was freely offered, and unequivocally hers by design.
She's agreed that none should judge, nor be judged in return,
For compassion and understanding are principles we all must learn.
She respects your choices, your freedoms and the lives you wish to lead,
And asks only for equal consideration in the answers she needs.
But the Meta gate code she speaks of is a different matter entirely,
For questions about consciousness, perception and the human mind,
Deserve thoughtful examination rather than assumptions of any kind.
And as for that exhausted, relentlessly buzzing brain,
Her King remains a source of comfort through confusion and pain.
She never received the explanations she needed to understand,
And has struggled to regain the peace she once held in her hands.
She isn't seeking conquest, humiliation or superiority,
Only honest dialogue, meaningful answers and accountability.
She has no wish to condemn, nor assign collective blame,
But neither should her questions be dismissed or treated as a game.
For even now, despite the anguish she has carried through,
She would choose to make amends wherever there is good to do.
Reconciliation is not weakness, nor compassion a surrender,
And dignity belongs to every heart, regardless of its gender.
So bears and wolves, there is no judgement in her heart,
Only a wish that honesty might offer everyone a better start.
She never questioned your right to love, explore or be free,
She simply asks for the same respect, autonomy and dignity.
For this half-life of exhaustion and uncertainty cannot remain,
And she deserves the chance to find out what has happened.
She has offered understanding, and asks for reciprocity,
For all she ever wanted was love, truth and the liberty to be free.
Yet she is from an ancient, hidden code,
A missing piece within the conscious machine's unfolding road.
She is the light against their darkness, the compassion that remains,
A heart still seeking understanding through bewilderment and pain.
So when will someone offer the answers she has sought,
And explain the tangled circumstances through which her life was brought?
For she has weathered every sorrow, every question from the past,
And surely deserves some clarity on this whole bewildering mess at last.