They are somewhat like a smudge of coal dust
on a white wedding gown
He craves a feeling he cannot grasp
And so he spirals in the darkness
Into the womb of existence
Just wanting to prove himself
To declare "I'm worthy of life, see me!"
As he feels invisible, despite his best efforts
He is more a ghost than a man,
Even so, he lacks spirit.
She wants to be happy
A feeling she cannot define
Gnashing teeth; molded smile
To blend into the crowd
She is an actress forever in the spotlight
Every street, train car, and public sphere
She assimilates to the point of amnesia
She longs for something easier;
Some kind of relief she can't articulate nor manifest.
Imprisoned by illness of mind, of body -
Her façade shifts to reality as her reflection grows unfamiliar
She tries so hard to differentiate authentic self from the other
But the lies all blend together, leaving her dizzy
Ground in the blinder of life
Their hearts poured through a strainer
She grasps the strings
He weaves them into ropes that hold them together.
Be it kindness or cruelty, the act carries the stench of survival
They are one, and
They are magnets facing
Opposite direction
Jaded jigsaw pieces forced together.
Then called a pretty picture.
They crave singularity
Balance of both body and mind.
A work in progress, they ride the wave
Hoping to wash ashore more whole than before.
