And yet here we stand.
At each other’s end of the rope–
Unmoving, unable, unresolved
To let go, to leave things be
To accept the finality of this act
To accept the truth of this farce that is
Our lives intertwined–
“Why?” I asked you,
“What have we gotten ourselves into?”

 

And yet here we stand.
The crossroads we probably crossed too fast
The dilemma we chose to answer in haste,
This– whatever this is,
And the fact that we pretend that we are happy
With each other’s supposed happiness.

 

And yet here we stand.
I, in the comfort of his arms, knowing this is where I should be–
You, within her reach, thinking you made the right and the wrong choice at the same time,
Asking me to be happy so you’d be happy,
WHY?
So you could be the martyr and I, the heartless one?
So I could feel the guilt of choosing when you yourself had given up on choosing?
WHY?

 

And yet here we stand.
AND YET HERE WE STAND.
But, WHY?

 

You knew I would’ve stayed,
Had you asked me to.
You know I would’ve done it,
Without regrets, too.

 

But why, must we stand here?
When you could just walk away?
When we both could just walk away?
Why?

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ergo

I sit here,
And I might as well be dead–
Stuck in a seemingly perpetual day
Of pretentious smiles and interest.
Forced to show the barest hint of concern
When in truth I’d rather be in bed,
Alone with my thoughts
Or perhaps a song in my mind–
Anything away from this,
Anything away from here,
Anything.

 
I sit here,
Feeling undead–
As if the light inside is no more lit,
But the muscles tweak and work, down to the tiny bits.
But the rest of me
Is begging, longing, crying
For the lofty bed I left this morning,
For the warmth left in my bed from last night,
For the folds and creases I could sink myself into.

 
I sit here,
And the unbearable urge won’t let me sit still–
To write, to think, to free my mind,
To say something, to jump, to speak,
To sing, out loud, alone.
To create, and destroy,
Until there is nothing left,
Nothing else to do,
But to, again, create.

 
I sit here,
For a few more hours,
Just a few more hours–
Four and a half, in fact,
Just a few more hours
Til I can close my eyes
For days and days on end
Til I go back again,
Til I sit here, again.