April 30th, 2017
I have never been one for inconsistencies.
The ebb and flow of everyday life
I find comforting,
and I slip in between the mundane and daily,
carving out a home between normalcy and regularity,
the consistency forming a tempo I can
regulate my breath and
shuttering heartbeat with.
I have never been one for change or for
comings and goings.
Though I’ve been told too many times that this is no way to conduct my life,
there doesn’t seem to be a reason to orchestrate
a new way of being
seeing as the everyday allows me to nestle beneath
prosaic and ordinary,
as if they are two friends I’ve known since the beginning.
But you,
you do not operate on my principles of stability.
You are not a calming eye amongst clamorous clouds,
nor a sliver of starlight peeking out from between
thunder studded skies.
I am not one for change;
I have always needed steady, stable, and solid,
but you are the antithesis of the laws I use to govern my reality.
You are windswept and wild,
the sea as it screams,
the forest fire devouring,
a being I can’t seem to comprehend or understand.
I
am not one for change.
I have never been one for inconsistencies,
and you scare me because of the irregularity
you cloak yourself in,
like a second skin,
a shell that swirls and spins
masking whatever you truly are and
I have hardly touched the flames
but have already been burned.
I have never been one for change,
and your inability to stay in one place
with a person for more than a few intoxicating moments
serves as a reminder of why
I find regularity to be so
appeasing.
I have never been one for inconsistencies.
The ebb and flow of everyday life
I find comforting,
and I slip in between the mundane and daily,
carving out a home between normalcy and regularity,
the consistency forming a tempo I can
regulate my breath and
shuttering heartbeat with.
I have never been one for change or for
comings and goings.
Though I’ve been told too many times that this is no way to conduct my life,
there doesn’t seem to be a reason to orchestrate
a new way of being
seeing as the everyday allows me to nestle beneath
prosaic and ordinary,
as if they are two friends I’ve known since the beginning.
But you,
you do not operate on my principles of stability.
You are not a calming eye amongst clamorous clouds,
nor a sliver of starlight peeking out from between
thunder studded skies.
I am not one for change;
I have always needed steady, stable, and solid,
but you are the antithesis of the laws I use to govern my reality.
You are windswept and wild,
the sea as it screams,
the forest fire devouring,
a being I can’t seem to comprehend or understand.
I
am not one for change.
I have never been one for inconsistencies,
and you scare me because of the irregularity
you cloak yourself in,
like a second skin,
a shell that swirls and spins
masking whatever you truly are and
I have hardly touched the flames
but have already been burned.
I have never been one for change,
and your inability to stay in one place
with a person for more than a few intoxicating moments
serves as a reminder of why
I find regularity to be so
appeasing.