We co-exist in peaceful detachment
A burden that has become too heavy.
And has stayed too long.
Even Love bends. Cracks; comes close to breaking, and sometimes does break.
Your unworn clothes I’ve rearranged a hundred times, your robe I wear is draped over my bed. Keeping me warm, holding me.
I have spent more time being held by fabrics and fears.
Days into months, months into years, my pillow soaked in tears.
We co-exist in peaceful detachment.
I feel like we could do something really cool with this world.
But we simply don’t.
Stuck in a clock.
The lonely stays, colonises my home, into a shell of safe, static martial mediocrity.
In the next step I dread, and avoid.
But the other option is watching your life, your valuable time, slip through your hands as if none of this is temporary.
But it is. Life is short. Eventually we leave.