lost

irreconcilable

is a word, born from a concept

that i was not sure truly existed

and now it is clear

how and why it be.

for it is not a lack of common ground

that renders the differences unresolvable

(for a compromise can always be met:

because in its essence, it is a give and take until the predicament is solved.)

it is instead a number of variables that inhibit the process of factorisation from taking place in the first place.

therefore, under scrutiny

reconciliation, or lack thereof

pivots on a willingness to succumb. On a decision to settle.

and if one does not see one's error, but that of the other, there is no reason to concede, at which point neither to attempt to solve the issue at hand.

in my case, i will not give in and make myself weak

as he wont . we remain as a result, uncommunicative, and to the detrement of anything we could have had, irreconcilable.

i am a fool

more foolish than the most foolish of fools

a undeniable fool

a beautiful fool

because it's natural

and uncontestable

and sincere

my foolishness.

survivor

and as the plane crashed...

i sat calmly

scribing my imminent death

for those that would survive us.

awaiting death

(that was approaching so hastily

i wrote in an untidy cursive script

to fit all the adjectives in, in time)

with an  ironic abandon

i have never known to exist in me.

as the animals around me

screeching, peeing, panting

primal ,sweating, incredulous

animals aka passengers

hurried and dug

in the impossible vortex of emotion and matter;

i forgot for the moment

about the agony of my collapsing lungs

and came to terms

with death, though it annoyed me

that it was so untimely.

im only 23 for crying out aloud

There was no god

there was no light

there was no moral reckoning

that i feared would preside

soon thereafter.

it was just me.

then...

we were no longer to die.

the excursion was over.

we made an emergency landing in Moscow.

i shook someone's hand.

i grinned from relief.

spoke to airport staff.

only minutes later i was making self-inquiries

about how to take the Trans Siberian Express.

and that concluded it.
dawn had broken.

summer winter

my emptyness is temporary
and in it i dwell.

i occupy its hollow
so much so

that i repeatedly wail
determined to hear my own echo.
next season

i will i see no more the brim

and lament all the same

because the overabundance

will smother me,

so much so

that it will spill over,

and being the aquarian i am

i shall momentarily long for the strife

of having nothing

nonetheless

i'm scared

instinct

all the prime advice in the universe
even offered by the maji from the orient
cannot shake me
though i practice no prophecy
though i hold no degree
though i am no one
and therefore know not how to navigate
i feel which star to follow
and so it be.

crossroads

should i take the money and run
or flee broke?
maybe i should walk
i may find luck in a stray penny
maybe not.

i should probably flick a coin.

do i choose heads or tails?
should i reference the past
or depend solely on the future ?
i ought to live in the present
though its already history.

i'll take it as it comes
yet destiny is in my hands
i have two appendages, mind you
so which do i choose?

tell me please.
no, i'll decide
we'll see