Seesaw (Poem)

Imbalanced.

My mind is the most uneven seesaw ever created. Damn thing squeaks every time you move from the ground to the sky, and vice-versa.

Been trying to put some WD-40 on it, but nothing seems to stick. Seesaw so long I don’t even know who’s on the other side. They just keep lifting me up, and down, and up, and down, even when I tell them to stop.

Duct taped to the seat so I can’t get off. I mean, I really didn’t expect this ride to be so ridiculous. Thought I’d stop riding it years ago but, I’ve been stuck like this since I was a kid. Got used to the highs but always knew a low was coming soon. Never could convince myself of the reverse when the lows hit.
And gravity always felt heavy falling down and too powerful when rising up.

Felt out of control of this ride for most of my life, and it seems like the weight of the world, or whoever is my companion in this ride, can change at a moment’s notice, I can’t react properly. Handle bars have chafed my hands from holding on to things for so long. No matter what, the seat isn’t comfortable anymore, it lost its cushioning when I gained my footing.

And I just continue to ride the wave as it changes frequencies. And waiting. Waiting for equilibrium. When my companion and I are equal, when the squeaks stop, gravity’s acceleration becomes zero, and my body doesn’t feel so heavy, and so light, all at once.

Then maybe I could look ahead, straight in front of me, and see who I’ve been fighting with, and against, all these years. It’d be a shame if I found out the other person, was me.

~Virgenal Owens the Poet

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