I don’t have the energy.
I don’t have the words.
I don’t know the outcome,
the angle,
so decisive,
to fight you,
to take you on.
I can’t lead you on
to the next thing,
until this fever is gone.
And the next thing,
is the next thing.
And the next thing,
is the next thing.
Why can’t we just
get on with it?
I’m out here
screaming thoughts.
One day I’ll just lose my voice.
One day I’ll just become dumb.
I have tried to explain,
but never satisfied.
I’ve got a turncoat mind,
abandons me all the time.
I should have known
that being who I am
might not be good for you,
so now I’ve changed,
I’m not sure who I am;
still not good for you.
I’ll never stop.
I’ll never quit.
Not sure that I know how.
Pick myself up off the ground,
dust myself off
and keep climbing out.
I used to think
that we were here
in this endless moment
to experience it,
but now I think
we might just be conduit
through which forever comes.
There is so much more
to all of this
than killing each other.
Sure we are both willing to die,
but that’s not a leap of faith;
it’s inevitable.
Who we are
is a much bigger sacrifice.
Maybe burning all that I am
for you
is a huge mistake,
but isn’t the fire pretty?
Isn’t it bright and warm?
We can be
anything,
so regrets are stupid.
Never doubt
that what we have ahead
is anything less
than astonishing.
HG – 2018
