Black Sun, White Shadow

caught in the divide

I used to recognize myself by the two extremes by which I was split evenly; that cobbled middle road leading to a sea of grey tepid water, tiding over gravel, where on each horizon a person stood shouting, myself silent but for the emotion emanating in waves.  I could not join either and so I remained, always on the fringe landscapes of that pale terrible territory and the dark twisted kingdom, not kin to one or the other.  I belonged nowhere, lacking some internal ingredient that others would recognize and therefore welcome as one of their own.  I often watched as travelers meandered towards the subtle merging of lands, as if by intention but as the familiar faded, their steps would falter and long before they ever reached me would return home with quickening feet.  My eyes would unfocus on their disappearing backs, another shape in the distance blending in.  I didn’t mind the lonliness, the endless days with no one to talk to, to share in the delicate shifting beneath and inbetween, the different shades in all the grey and the quiet hum and whisper of many truths coexisting.  Find your own, I was told by ghosts and drifting dreams.  I have none, was always my reply.

(props to artist)

~ by CAT on March 21, 2009.