04-02-2017, 11:41 AM
The Fundamentalist
I had questions, you had answers.
You never bent or changed your mind,
so you looked like steel beams.
The way you steadied us,
defiant toward the weather –-
“Everything's fine, don't let yourself
think otherwise” –- you looked like land,
and I'd been seasick far too long.
For a while I didn't mind
the way you stopped conversations
without compromise.
But, you thought a cut was a gash,
as if one misstep, one omission
and all would crumble;
nothing could be wrong
or everything was wrong.
You'd rather sever a broken arm
than live with a splint.
That's how we collapsed
like the old Tacoma Narrows,
built with no consideration
for the force of the wind.
I had questions, you had answers.
You never bent or changed your mind,
so you looked like steel beams.
The way you steadied us,
defiant toward the weather –-
“Everything's fine, don't let yourself
think otherwise” –- you looked like land,
and I'd been seasick far too long.
For a while I didn't mind
the way you stopped conversations
without compromise.
But, you thought a cut was a gash,
as if one misstep, one omission
and all would crumble;
nothing could be wrong
or everything was wrong.
You'd rather sever a broken arm
than live with a splint.
That's how we collapsed
like the old Tacoma Narrows,
built with no consideration
for the force of the wind.