Torn in the essance of finding satisfaction. I am stuck between a door and a window. The door is familar, but the window offers the chance to fly. A third option is to stay... stay torn and confused in this sudden option. One problem arises in this decision~ the door is there, but not open. Could I be imagining a crack? Can I open the door? Is it locked? Do I have a key? The window is open and there is a gentle calming breeze. The drop looks too deep. Deeper than I hoped or imagined. If I shut the window I have made the choice to stay torn. So here it is. Dare I wait? Dare I act now? Dare I hurt again. Picky I am to satisfy myself... Yet, I know what does. Everything comes with a price. On this head I remain torn because, well... I just can't decide.
2003
*written and read more like a letter than a poem.