Looking Back On Now

From one extreme to the other. Hot and cold. Day and Night. No in between. Like a fucking nut that can’t understand the word sanity. There’s no reasoning with her. So much has been lost. How much has been stolen. Unable to regain a voice for those furies. Always looking back, always making sure to do the right thing. While he just keeps on walking, threading joyfully along, not picking up his mess, too self-absorbed to see how his self-indulgence enslaves me. Originally, this was supposed to be about the ying and yang. About this uncontrollable untamable mind. It has to be one or the other. No moderation. Doesn’t exist in her vocabulary. Yet.