Inbetween by Kristine De Abreu

''I am half-sick of shadows',

That much is true.

Half sick of half truths,

Half sick of half promises,

But I need them.

I need these incomplete puzzles,

These mosaic tiles,

And those eyes that do not understand or focus on me.

Sleeping with one eye open,

One fist clenched,

But a mind ready to receive.

A crooked smile not quite there,

And the taste of something bittersweet on my tongue,

Not good yet not bad.

'What I dream of is an art of balance,'

That much is true.

No longer sick of scales and pendulum swings,

No longer sick of stacked stones and vriksasanas,

For I need them,

For I cannot possibly have one without the other,

No matter how hard I wish for something different.

One palm up in offering,

Eyes to the clouds,

And a brighter smile as I let go.

Half measures are background noise,

An inconvenient impediment,

That won't get to me unless I let it,

For it teaches me to be better.

I know what I want.

I want a universe in the breaths I take,

I want the stars and moons at my feet,

But I can't have them if I'm held back.

So I welcome those shadows,

So I welcome those broken pieces,

And try to find the light as I put them back together.

Half souls are irrelevant,

Empty shells are useless,

While those visions of brightness and safety await me,

At the end of that long, ominous stretch of blackness.

So when the rain comes and the skies dim,

I will look fondly on those half sick smiles,

That aren't quite there,

Those eyes that see through me,

And say thank you for your half decency.

#Poetry #Writing #Committee