Unwieldy

It’s strange the duality of feelings that exist, simultaneously.
Painfully.

That feeling of relief that emerges in the fight for lightness that presses against the heaviness that is once again mewed up in the soul.

The heaviness that flows through the blood, giving life to limbs.
That same heaviness that feeds the gnawing hunger in the belly.
The gnawing hunger that wraps its leaded fingers around capillaries and aortas,
stifling the beating heart.

The heart that aches and palpitates and craves and yearns.
The heart that wants to love.
The heart that is bound up by dread merely at the thought of being opened.

The thought of being preyed upon.

The thought of being fully enjoyed, in the darkest of nights.
Teeth and fingers sinking deep, knowing and feeling everything.

How to reconcile the light and the heaviness.
How to appease what is so similar, yet insists on being at war within.
The lightness is what’s felt, and the heaviness is what’s lived.
The reflection of what light wants to be, clouded by the reality of what the heaviness insists it is.

The heaviness is always ahead.
But the light is never far behind.