I heard a phrase in a song today
“…tragedies of chemistry…”
and it struck me
I don’t believe there’s anything
that better describes you and I.
but disappointing results,
hopeful experiments gone wrong.
of two elements
that I had thought sure
could create something beautiful.
A tragedy of chemistry.
Science never was my strong suit.
Floating in and out,
this disembodied spirit appears and disappears
without rhyme or reason.
You show me just enough to know you exist,
but I can't ever truly experience you,
can't understand or explain you,
and certainly...can't keep you.
How long will you stay this time?
Why do you leave?
And why do you return?
These fleeting moments,
I try once again
to make contact,
reach my hand out
wanting to touch the mist, feel the energy
attempt to make the illusion real;
to make sense of the haunt.
But as quickly as you arrived,
as quickly as I even make eye contact,
you're gone again.
My attempts to grasp always go unconnected.
I never know when,
but you always reappear.
And I don't know why.
you set fire to my soul
in both the most exhilarating
and infuriating of ways
and all I can do
is fan the flames
and continue to burn.
loving you will most certainly be the eventual death of my sanity.
drifting in and out like the tide
inevitably your ocean always returns
kisses my toes, flows over my skin
cold and exhilarating
i remember this feeling
sparkles in my brain, electricity
chills up my spine
tingles through my fingertips
apprehension melts into intrigue
cold begins to feel warm
and I’m captivated once again
waves swell and crash into me
stepping forward to meet the surge
wanting to be enveloped, consumed
accepted by the depths
another familiar sensation
the pull of the current retreating
as quickly as it came
and never with explanation
i always attempt to fight it
to hold on somehow
bargain for more time
but the effort remains futile
and I release my desperate grip
relinquish and surrender
watch you fade away
accept the cyclic fate
for the indefinite and unexplainable
but always eventual
perhaps someday I'll leave the shore
their frustration comes from pressing the gas and spinning, spinning their
wheels, not gaining any traction or momentum.
my frustration comes from when I gain motivation to press that pedal down,
my wheels just don't seem to spin much anymore.
deep in the muddy rut I've dug myself into,
deeper and deeper over the years.
feels like no chance for propulsion now,
no way to drive myself out on my own.
less frustration as time goes on,
more like acceptance creeping in.
foot off the pedal, what's the point in wasting the fuel.
sit still, listen to the music, feel the feelings,
and stay put.
wait for a tow truck,
or for a reason to get out and walk.
Weaving in and out of traffic
Reckless with your own life
Reckless with others'
No blinker, no warning
Mash the pedal
Crank the wheel
You hold steady and drive beside me
But only for a moment
Before passing me by
And moving into another lane
Slowing down is not an option for you
As though there are no brakes
I tried to keep up
Unable, unwilling to continue the chase
I'm left behind
To watch your tail-lights fade away
Water always finds a way in.
The rain comes down,
the snow melts,
and the water finds the path
of least resistance.
Seeps into the cracks,
creeps under the shingles,
winds its way
through the areas left vulnerable
from years of slow erosion,
neglect of upkeep.
It begins to leak inside,
to create havoc,
to damage what should be kept
safe and dry.
Drops become trickles,
trickles become streams,
streams become rivers,
pools begin to form,
until the weight of itself forces advancement.
Pushing to find another route,
another way in.
Water, like feelings of inadequacy,
always finds a way inside.