No Man’s Land

Written on February 16th, 2018

I am built of halves
but they never make me feel whole
my crudely cut edges don’t match one another
so I tape them closed with gritted teeth
part lover, part fighter
half peace, half fire
I am semi-cautious, somewhat bold
one-hundred percent uncertain

and it is cold in no man’s land,
the earth hard and unforgiving as it covers the “between”
it’s a clumsy place to build a home
so naturally I had to grab my hammer
each door opens to another contradicting world
and I keep them all unlocked
I never have had the resolve to build a fence;
I’m incapable of keeping myself in —
incapable of keeping pain out

my halves are juxtaposed
not like stanzas in poems but like blind political parties
they rarely complement; they always compete
I again am left breathless in this in-between
and I want to be a mosaic,
something broken made better after being spliced together
but my dullness can’t hold its own
my mania has never been pretty
and despite the heaviest blankets of insecurity,
it is still so cold in no man’s land

I’ve already put down roots