My life is lived at the point where
Hopes and fears collide; where they become
Indistinguishable; where the two sides of me
Do battle and I, inevitably, lose the war.

It’s all in the timing, really.
Tonight, I want everything and need nothing;
Tomorrow may not be the same.
I fail to learn how to make things happen,
So I leave it all to timing.

She is on my mind again: I look for her
Among the endless faces, no matter how
Unlikely her presence would be,
In the hope that the timing will be right
For her to catch up with my inertia…

But she is not here. I remain
An island of silence in a sea of conversation.
This is what I need, but not what I want.

I want more moments so each will be
Less valuable than the last; so that I can
Cease to treasure them, cease to
Memorialise them, cease to obsess.
Perverse, but necessary.

There is a way out, but I am unable
To find it. Perhaps every blind alley
Brings me closer, like they did through
All those long, ill advised nights.
It is too much to hope that she will
Understand, so I can only hope that
She will not need to.

11/04/2015

Posted on 12/24/2015
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