The obscurity of the in-between is shocking.
That stage, frozen in ambiguity, lightyears from that blossom tree, yet
Not such a silly, miniscule seed recently planted by that whirlwind of emotion,
Woven, threaded, interconnected through a tapestry of raw sensation.
Or, it may have stemmed from one shocking, vibrant explosion,
One moment in your time.
The In-between remains quite shocking.
That barren, grey, maze-like no man’s land where
I truly find myself lost and out of touch with her.
That Child in Nursery, struggling to read and comprehend
The meaning behind language and human behavior comes flooding back to me
Like those clouded tears.
I have always struggled with this.
But now more than ever my feelings are reaching a summit-like crescendo.
The silence, the obscurity, the ambiguity is killing me.
What is appropriate? What us too much and
Contrastingly too little,
What is distasteful?
How do you navigate this labyrinth of perplexing questions?
I see and feel the embers slowly dying before me.
How do you salvage the decline of something once beautiful,
Once real, once divine? The butterflies are still here.
I thought they were never to return. They accompanied
That galloping racehorse in my chest that day and have ceased to stop.
Perhaps such questions are futile, even counter-productive.
Perhaps my fault lies in trying to understand something so alien to my nature.
I have a lot to give. If this stage comes to pass, it will probably become a forgotten memory
Amongst an ecstasy of beautiful shared pleasures that will glow, flourish and grow.
In this moment however, I fear and I struggle.
The obscurity of the in-between is shocking.
