The dichotomy of the psychology
Of love is the thin line between
I am and I can be.
The taking of the status quo,
Lining it up before the firing line,
And asking Prisoner Heart if
Last wishes they posses,
Wishes wasted to confess?
The prisoner says:
I am the standing status quo,
When I should have been the
The questioner, on the firing line,
asking always, firing this bullet,
Quo Vadim?
"Whither goest thou?"
------------
An admirer of your indecision,
For it is the mark of
The Questioner...
Apologies. Written on the crosstown bus in about 3 herky~jerky minutes, between 7th Ave., and Lexington Ave.
Inspired by Ms. Paxton's,
you split me in two
half of me begs you to stay away
and avoid our fire,
while the other half bathes in the light of
a dangerous flame;
half of me builds barricades around my memories
while the other half records every inch
of us, in detail;
half of me is lost in the complexity of your mind
while the other is screaming
for me to get out;
half of me wants you to cradle my face in your hands
like you did last summer, but this time
give in and kiss me,
and the other half is terrified that
that is what will do me in,
that is what will ******* alive
and that is what will **** me.
