Centre

Was it something she said,
or something I realized
that I lost my grip on the plot
and fell
and kept falling
till I reached the concrete
and lay there, shattered?
Of everything I knew about me,
I did not know I was brittle.
Now, the flecks just lay splattered.

The silence weighs on me,
paralyzing any struggle,
and they all watch me
break
and remain broken.
If only I could fix myself,
pull every piece together,
maybe, and just maybe,
they won’t condemn me to their sighs.
It is tiring.

It is tiring
to exist in this dichotomy
between my state and my will.
I rummage through the rubble,
while a nagging question
remains suspended in air.
And, like it, I wish I could say
even I am hanging by a thread;
but, like it, I continually ask
Where is my centre?

 

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13 thoughts on “Centre

      1. Statement 1: Home is where the heart is.
        Statement 2: My heart is with me here.

        It follows from statement 1 and 2 that I’m already home. Your suggestion is redundant; not to mention, useless.

        Like

  1. I loved it. The struggle between the state and the will always fascinates me. This exercise reminds me of that bit in ‘Before Sunrise’ where Celine and Jesse ask a poet on the road to write a poem with the word “milkshake” in it.

    PS: You’re awesome.

    Like

            1. I didn’t think of it that way. I didn’t know there was a ‘for or against’ opinion regarding this matter. I saw them as complementary to each other. But if I had to choose who I identify with, it’d be Celine.

              Like

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