Unclear Clarity

Be the one who cannot be with me but see that I am here.

Alone and waiting in a space that is not clear,

not transparent, or apparent

that we and he and she cannot be free when we see.

Or do not see the truth of what we live and hear and breathe.

At times I want to leave.

But to leave would be to succumb

To submit to the feeling of numb

To submit to the feeling that overtakes us and where we come from.

But to conform and live on is equally banal. A bore.

All we want is more that you could give perhaps. Or not.

All I see is this space with gaps,

so full of things that do not concede

or bleed

Out.

Out is the love we cannot feel

because to feel would be to deal with what we cannot accept, what our minds cannot believe.

Yet, is the centre of the truth and all that is real

the only thing that is secure and with seal?

Here lies our last meal,

if we want it to be our last, that is your choice.

The voice we were born with is here to guide. Thus,

there should be no need for incessant, pubescent hiding of

Us. You,

You are the only one who can be with me and know that I am here.

In your heart you hold me dear.

Perhaps, I am no longer alone,

no longer waiting.

By being here, I will only wait forever,

But to leave here, or there, or anywhere, I feel as though,

I could never