All My Reasons

Secrets are like birds.

If you let them out of their cage for just one second, they'll fly away,
out of your control,
lost in the unknown wilderness, the jungle our lives.

Well, it started out small
like most fires do, until they overwhelm,
devouring me, following me,
my new shadow: unmistakable,
a tenacious reminder,
yet it is only seen when I stand in the light.

My insecurities are the main characters
in this poorly written play
where people stand and people fall,
where you take none or you take all,
and those who hesitate are left abandoned
on the side of the road to fend for themselves.

We speak carefully, whispering, as if we haven't talked in years
or are afraid of each other,
and the pace of the conversation slows in contrast
to the furious beating of our hearts
trapped within these cages that are our chests.

The truth is, I am afraid
to open my mouth, in fear that I will let loose another monster
whose capability to undo my foundation
threatens what little shreds of security I have left
and so I decide to seal my lips,
and let my eyes do all the talking.

The hope that once took my heart by the hand
and led me to the cliff where I marveled at the view
has now packed its bags and left;
it knows to get away
before the time-bomb ignites itself,
and by the second the fuse is getting shorter.

But I left the land of compromise for this daring, dark desert
a long time ago, into the other world            
where happiness is just as much a mirage as water.

Summoning up within myself a will, a purpose
that I thought had died along with the dream,
but is now pushing back the stone that sealed its tomb
and risen up within my throat, I speak: I didn't mean for this
to end up this way, it was my mistake, you know that.
 
And I wish I could change it, but I can't, and neither can you,
if opening your eyes to circumstance wasn't so hard, then maybe
we wouldn't be here, debating the obvious,
as the silent air trembles in fear before the invisible weight of my voice.

I can see you've wanted to be friends
she says, getting up and facing me with a sudden aggression
but now I know that it's been
for all the wrong reasons,
and she moves farther away, but not out of sight.

Words escape me; I cannot describe how
this has all happened so fast, too soon,
forever marring the white linens of possibility
with the black fingerprints of enmity.

And now it seems the news has gotten out,
been proclaimed on mountaintops,
etched in stone so all can see the inner workings of the human mind,
of human imperfection.

The terrain burns my feet, bare, stripped of their pride
yet forced to pursue another vanishing mile,
running the race where there is no finish line,
no end
to this immortal torture, robbed of sanity,
as the pact between the sun and the sand is solidified
in the scorching of my body, disturbed but yet willing
to continue the journey, even if it means the death
of a part of my being.

Playing games, playing god,
an outsider unwittingly misplaces
something that could have been so good between us,
had the string that connected us not broken before we had a chance
to pull ourselves in closer.

She looks over at me
but doesn't speak, and I know why.