Pulled in One Thousand Directions

I see you and I feel
like the stars are falling,
like the planets are out of orbit,
like the mountains rise to the ground,
like the sea and fire clash

in a perilous fight for

decisive emotions;
one burning with desire,
the other: cold, hard truth.

Often the fire overtakes
and the sea ebbs away
with a low, ominous rumble.
And I feel so hot;
the sky is the limit, the stars!
I can perch on the brink of embarrassment...
"But it's okay," the coals
wink and glimmer to me,
I can't lose what I wish for.

But when the sea gulps
down the untame flames,
grief, self-doubt, the truth
floats to the surface; debris.
It freezes the frivolity
and gravity is turned back on.
My wishes die cold,
my desire wastes away
"You can't have him," hissing whispers
that I know are true.

So when the stars fall,
it's an illusion strung out of reach.
The planets seemingly out of orbit
are only slightly tilting.
The mountains rise to the ground
only making earthquakes to build them up again.
And the sea and fire
untame and wise,
glorious and treacherous,


indecisive


tear my very being apart!