Mine is a crusade to understand this brokenness, with a solid probability that I never will.
Like Durga, who is both protector and destroyer, you and I stroll along soft even ground at times only to dangle off steep mountain craigs at others.
Just as the sun can be the giver or taker of life, you have been granted the same power over me.
Your disinterest fuels my need to be deserving.
Under your full attention I escalate in importance and invincibility.
But when darkness comes, I am lost and you are blind.
Afterwards, we are shocked and disoriented by the fury and savagery, the brutality of the words, the fierceness of the acts and the realization of being so close to death it is almost a taste in our mouths.
Still…you have the upper hand. Always.
Even when, with staggering beauty, you grovel for forgiveness, prostrate yourself from guilt, promise it will never happen again, even then, when I could eye for an eye you, I don’t.
Caging the intruder hasn’t worked, nor attempting to tame it. The only solution is to kill it.
You will never allow me to destroy it though, will you? Because you love it. You say you hate it, but you love it. Your long term mutualistic relationship that was there long before me.
Don’t deny it. I have seen the look in your eyes when it is present; the glint of macabre appeal, the vicious enjoyment of your supremacy, the thrall of destruction.
The aftermath is hard and it is taking its toll.
I’m not sure how much more I will be able to take, but I’ll take what I can get of the good part of you.
I’ll never leave you.
As if I ever could.