his/hers

there was a playfulness and lightness that came from accepting
the game. so he was never going to love you. that didn't mean
we couldn't still be play mates.

it didn't mean there weren't lessons to learn and memories to
etch and midnight's to be surpassed by our endless banter.
each day we spent together was like saying good bye for
the last time. i became so convinced of this reality it made
seeing him again and again far more of a spectacle than it
should have been.

while wilderness and cosmic synchronicity's swirled in i was
likely little more than a handful to squeeze and an enigmatic
thought of something that would never materialize for more
than a few hours in the back seat of his car. that's where we felt
safest expressing the truth

that no one else
held us this way

the foggy windows ached with cliche resonance
but we slipped and slid behind them engaging the teenage
renaissance neither of us had before
there were so many others who might have made safer or wiser choices
but i never chose them

maybe i liked seeing things die
maybe decay was what inspired me
growth had become ingrained in my life an an almost automatic
survival response but secretly (and not so secretly while we
mutually self destructed all over his back seat) i loved
destroying things


there was one other girl in particular that i should have
given more consideration to being a potential play mate
but she was the sun and i was the moon. this may sound like a
complimentary position but if you begin to look at the facts
we never share the same sky. we are held together by contrast
of our differences. i do love her. and my love for her was
never psychotic or obsessive. maybe that's why i keep her at
the peripheries. to stay pure and gentle as i fight an
inconsistent war of submission and attraction to my darker
side.

i never wanted to destroy her
but some things i did

as far as dark and light goes there are neither i relate to
more so. there is both. there are flighty nights spent in back
seats and there are relentless acts of unbridled altruism.
there is a sense of knowing underneath it all
that i end up with her
whether in this life time or the next.

but she's the last one.

am i ready for that? does it make me terrible if i'm not? if i
feel there are still a few rounds of reckless abandon i want
to play out?

i think this is what keeps me silent and still. i prefer for
the whole world to move around me and to simply sit back and
watch which parts of it crash together close enough for me to
peek at. carnage and compassion side by side. the ongoing
state of my existence.

fucked up and blissful.
what sort of enlightenment is this?

apparently the kind that has lost the will to care
and cares all together too much
for the wrong sorts of things

but in abandonment of right and wrong
there is only caring left

and if i care about destruction
if i care about survival

there is only one thing left to do