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The Tug Of All Things

There is a pressing voice
in the back of my mind
and when it senses silence
it emerges
and always asks me the questions
that have answers which I would rather not confess.
'Are you lonely? '
Yes.
'Do you love only for the sake of loving? '
Yes.
I live in the past
because the future frightens me.
The past is real,
It is concrete in my memory
and the future is a cloud
I know it is beyond me
but it is untouchable.
Intangible.
Unreliable.
It cannot carry me
so I lay in the arms
of what has already been
because what will be
dances itself silly
in a reality
that is so far from me.
The clouds of the future
sometimes rest with the big glowing ball in the sky.
The sun has always been our audience.
It bares witness to so much
of our romance.
Proudly beaming down with all of its warmth
even with a slight sense of pity
because it knows
just how cold
this world can be.

poem by Vanessa Grixti
Added by Poetry Lover
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