Poetry

the de(p/a)th of us

We hold onto unfamiliarity
clutching onto its very existence
I wonder if you feel it too
the heartbeat of the unnamed
the breath of something that is very much so alive
for the moment

I realize I have never reached this depth
a surface I had always wandered but never cracked
chipped but never broken
I only knew the surface level
an intimacy only skin deep, I longed for the profound
wondered but never explored
I wanted to get to the core

Scratches on the surface are a collection of failed attempts
patterns turned my pain into a masterpiece
memories fragmented of a rotten past
nightmares persist within the same frame
an endless rerun of a shadow leaving
I never remember the shape
but I know they always leave

Continual efforts in trying to stay cause confusion
I have never been here before
what is this supposed to mean?
flashbacks of shadows pry into my mind
a paranoia of you soon disappearing
questioning if your intent was to leave
questioning if your intent was temporary
questioning your intent, period
I’m sorry

Our grip on the unknown tightens
holding onto a sense of knowing it was never there in the first place
we never intended on the descent
yet we lay six feet below the ravaged surface
deeper than the skin we lay in, we’ve left that behind
the complexity of being bare
maybe we should have left that too
but I sink deeper, my doubts multiply
though I can still see the light pierce through the now peephole
I can still feel the warmth

I grew fond of an embrace that loosened over time
a habit that turned into desires
I can only feel my hands
they clasp onto the mystery of something we knew was once there
irrational thoughts flood my attention

I can never seem to focus on the fact that you’re still here
an apparition manifested into reality
yet I still look for your shadow
even when you’re standing right in front of me
I don’t feel your presence anymore
even when you’re standing right in front of me
I can feel you leaving with the sun

The ambiguity of falling to the depths of the unknown
my hesitations tend to win sometimes
I never mean to scratch you with the surface
unnecessary battle wounds render you fatigued
you still stand in front of me, chest high
you still stand in front of me, soul low
you still stand in front of me

Why are you still standing in front of me?

My hesitations tend to win sometimes
I question your ubiquitous ability
an exhausted you prevails, rupturing the surface that I spent years of scratching
you are now everywhere and nowhere
another place for you to stand
yet you still stand in front of me, tattered

But I still feel the pulse
I still feel the breath of air

and I will still hold on

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