solitude is fine but you need someone to tell you that solitude is fine

the tellurian wasn’t prepared to deal with the child of the sky,
to love the heir of air,
a body she could hold
but a lover she couldn’t keep.

she wasn’t ready for the rapid flight
of the mind and fiery explosion
of impulsive feeling
(the only normal response
of one that doesn’t carry an ounce of earth on the soul,
that only belongs to what’s free and flows-
music and laugh and word,
and every other ethereal thing carried by air).

she didn’t know that it,
this love, would eventually take its toll:
like a fire that burns
until it consumes whole
(never stopping),
bigger than the world, but more lasting.

so she dived, head in first,
drunk in foolishness!
dropping her armor
& forgetting her land.

so, the first price she paid
was patience.
it wasted away,
little by little,
with every 4 a.m. rant,
binges and discourses that never end:
a hyperactive mind that doesn’t seem
to ever shut up, or stop.

secondly, she sacrificed
her heart was fueled, in equal increments,
by fear (of the unknown, the deep end) and
by the pain and intensity of the light.
it was vertigo, moving too fast!
then, slowly what was cute
became abhorring,
and the aerial bubble where they floated on
lacked oxygen to breath.

finally, gone was hope,
the security she craved so much.
how could a wanderer,
someone that fell from the heavens, no home,
entrap, enroot or complete her forever?
so she held on to the love,
but it ignited rapidly, incinerated brutally,
up to the moment she dreaded the most:
all left were the ashes.

suddenly, the feeling was a nuisance.
it was toomuchbutnotenough, never filling.

it was a stress on the cracks of a foundation that couldn’t sustain
the pressure of being held
by arms too tight
but that could, at any moment, cut loose.

she was only an earthly thing,
a damaged little creature,
(she knew in her heart she was it,
knew every time she cried)
like a rabbit with a broken paw:
she needed fixing, she needed holding,
she needed

and the sky princess
couldn’t come down to hold her earthling
in her arms, she just couldn’t embrace her-
for the soil was scorched where she passed by,
and her touch wilted what was green, solid.
her speed would break
that fragile flower in young bloom,
and, in her ancient years, she learned already
what it was to ruin what she adored most.

so lastly, both sacrificed proximity,
each going in their separate ways.
the rave brunette down to the substratum,
the dazzling blonde up the ozone or beyond…

for it was impossible for the two elements
to live closely yet never mix.

(little do they know, though,
that even with separated bodies,
their souls are bound in this lifetime
and many others yet to come)


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