The Carousel

I let it go. Moved on. And suddenly you came back to me so naturally. I don’t understand this feeling anymore. Is it hate, love, lust? I don’t know. My mind can’t wrap around the thought of you coming back, and I know it’s too good to be true. Where is this even going? We keep running around in circles or as if we were on a carousel that never stops. The carousel stops when you want it to, but mine keeps going around to the same song. Why is it so hard to let go of something that made you so unhappy? I guess it’s the memories and the history beneath it all. The pictures and the words being exchanged. I’m still riding this carousel as if it were my favourite ride at the amusement park, maybe that’s my reason. The problem is, I don’t want to try the other rides. My attachment can’t seem to be unbroken and fear starts to overwhelm me. I’m so afraid to move on, but I am trying. As these thoughts run through my head, the carousel keeps going. Will it ever stop? I think it’s time I stopped it. 

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I look beautiful on the brink of falling,
feet scrabbling on the sheared earth.
This is what I imagine love to be.

A circle of pale beacons guide the ships toward shore,
never once questioning their company in the water.

Sharing in this ritual, ghosts float
just above the surface
where we would reach out and touch them
if only we knew how.

Take a look at the stars.
I see a shimmer cross the sky,
but you are too busy trying to catch my eye
for this to happen.
I’ll tumble down with you into the unknown
because I never learned how not to.