Triad

I lost you last night. I’m not sure what is mine to lose anymore,
but I lost you. And it hurt, but not that bad.
It seems your heart has gone from living, vibrant, pumping in my hands
to ash. You’re crumbling and
swirling about with the soft breeze that turns up my
collar. Bones around which our flesh once hung now
pound drums in mourning of all I never could have been.
I hope these are the last,
last bubbles of air escaping as my
hands hold our head under water,
last time I’ll turn in my sleep and turn myself back
over to the suffocating, gasping
last breath of you
and I.

I became a machine of valid
and invalid,
ought
and ought not.
And for naught.
Gears and cogs
gear up to bring down the pendulum
first across my pride, then back into
my soul. Ticking slowly,
stopping not.

Amid this most fruitless wandering I
Find a wasteless way.
Two roads diverged in a wood and I
Sat right down between them.
Choosing neither and hating both.
But furrowed brow and bitten tongue could
Never have made it known
To me that all roads here before lead but to one
Unknown, that all roads here before lead but to
Home.