Him Her and You
I believe I have a voracious pit inside of me that is never going to be satiated. A want for more- people experiences and time. I scrap with life, as if I had a chance of winning the battle. I arrive on my knees bloody and fatigued; looking up to the luminated grass I bow my body toward the west. With the sun setting I may get a new chance at victory in the Morning but there is no guarantee when you jab at life in the way that I have.
Sometimes I find the novelty in the sun and the honey that drips over soft grass. I react brashly lying down to float on the wind and feel it run past like a child in play. In the midst of it all, I only feel the insects trying to escape the weight which I have put upon them. The resounding weight of my body being pulled into the ground. I often wonder if God thinks about the pressure of humanity. What does God think of us? If he does think of us that is. And why is he a he?
And why does he direct the motions of hate? And why does he allow the sanctity of life to be stripped from those so suddenly? I was in the car the other day thinking about life but more about death. Those are people’s last moments on this physical plane- this earth so we call it. I had a student ask me about death. What do you think is after? Why does he not tell us? If he is so kind and graceful then why have us fight our way into his arms. If anything he should be on his knees, hands clasped at our feet.
The pit tells me I ask for too much and maybe that is so. I talk with it every night. About you, about her, about myself. For such a hungry thing it is often good at being gentle. Consolation comes with her silence but so does the disrespect. Consolation though is not resolution. Resolution is the final straw for the pit. The last chance at stitching it up; haphazardly but still. How do you tell the others about the pit without making them afraid? He doesn’t talk about the pit. She listened to me about the pit and then fell in. You think, sit dangling. Like the fruits of Babylon waiting for consumption.
She is always with me for better and for worse. EVERYTHING BUT THE VOWS. That is important to relay. I hear whispers of something clean, efficient and new. Something shiny which refracts the darkness she holds. I wonder if that light which leads her in pillars ever reflects our time before the darkness. I wonder if she thinks about it. I know you do. I know you do often, but sit quietly suspended in dark matter.
I am afraid of you. I cannot feel clean around you, knowing what has happened. You tell me who you are but do I have both ears to listen? To understand? Or have I lent my time to the insatiable self which resides in my body. How do you do it? Have you never loved anyone else? Truly? Or have you only ever seen it? I am afraid of you. And your unwavering faith in those who you surround yourself with. I think you also have the pit. I am not sure where. I think that also scares me. How do we not destroy one another? Or maybe that is the point.
I am afraid of him, I am afraid of her, and I am afraid of you.
