Of Two

I learned about dualism a year ago.

How everything comes from two.

I only applied it to literature though,

until I realized it really is me and you.

I am bold when something is important to me,

yet I shy away because people judge.

I live in the moment and feel free,

but then I'm trapped in the past- no escaping a grudge.

I dance all the time when I am alone,

but around you, 

I'm a nuisance, always stepping on your toes. 

Sometimes I pretend I'm through

with the judgement and hate and my fate.

I think I can make my own path,

dig my own grave.

But then I feel His touch of grace (or maybe wrath)

and suddenly I'm once again a part of a plan.

People tell me I look sad,

I think it's my eyes.

But I'm honestly happy; it just makes me mad

that I want to change the world but I'm not yet wise

enough to even make a difference.

I say maybe one day I'll put it all behind me.

But do I really want to do that?

Everything that now seems so pressing in the moment's heat

is what makes up the person I will be. 

I am of two;

You are of two.

This thought has taken over in my head.

But even though we say we're all this and that, 

we're really only alive, then dead. 

This poem is about: 
Me

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