Neutral

I hate that about myself.

I can’t be content with being

2 HB Ticonderoga

Why must it always be

Fire or Ice

Heaven or Hell

Agony or Ecstasy

With me?

Sometimes I think:

“Perhaps I should have taken

The Candy

From Dr. Pez Dispenser M.D.”

Or maybe I could have continued

Popping milligrams of Happy ™

And propelled myself into

A life sentence of silliness

At least then

I wouldn’t have to choose.

What I do know

Is that whether it beats

Fast or Slow

My love/hate box aches

And it makes me sick.

If I ripped my chest cavity open

Do you think the Universe

Would spill out?

Or would there be a boundless void;

A rapacious vacuum

Ready to consume

All that there ever was

And ever will be?