The rift within us

She lays on one side,
and he lays on the other.
she is a beautiful flower against the brutalized landscape,
he, thistle and thorn on a path rightfully left untrodden.
she is an ornate nib against the parchment, gliding with grace, 
he, a metal implement against the wood, etching with fire.                
she is my first musing in the early morning,
he, my final contemplation at night.
she is the uplifting ion in a chord of progression,
he, the dark, dissonant sharp breath of the fanciful ocean.
she smiles,
he frowns.
I know I can’t keep humoring the idea of compromise.
So get out of my head,
and croon the dirge with me.
no more rifts or ultimatums, please.
I can’t be alone any longer.
don’t make me choose right now.
No. NO.
Just hold me tight,
and tell me things will get better.
in my nightstand, there lies a bottle of pills
(some old opioids, I think)                                            
and a paring knife.
you both are the reason I don’t pick up either.
Both of you are my lifeline…
no more rifts or ultimatums, please.
Just both of you, and me.
can you love two people at once?


19 thoughts on “The rift within us

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