hiccups of the heart

There is this completion found 

in a four-lettered word;

A knowingness,

A realization.

Tempting to be held,

wishing to be heard,

yet forsaken.

 

It is here:

above us now,

floating in this space we

knew was there;

space we knew to fill,

but refused.

So we are here,

standing;

arms at sides,

not reaching out.

For there is something between us

and we are not willing

to climb the rails,

to board the train to completion.

We were syndicates once,

way back when;

fighting for the same cause. But 

now we’re soldiers

made of rock,

and steel,

and old ideas;

statues within ourselves.

There is a way to be known;

there is a road to completion.

Four letters get in the way:

love, unrequited;

and fear of repetition.

photo via (we heart it)