And then there were two,
Sitting on a bench by the bus stop.
Waiting.
Watching.
Two kids - teenagers - then young adults.
On different sides of the same story.
One representing tails
The other, heads.
One representing Yin
The other, Yang.
It's not like they are friends.
They don't have to be.
They're not enemies.
They can't be.
There are two puzzle pieces in their minds that can only be filled with the other's presence.
This is not a love story.
It's a story of friendship that cannot be.
Why, no one knows.
Possibly their own human stubbornness is keeping them apart.
Perhaps it's their foolishness.
Their obliviousness.
They refuse to smile at each other but steal glances instead
And the eye contact
Says more than anything.
The Yin has a story
She won't say aloud.
The Yang
Won't open up
Or share
Or engage.
They both have their lives and their loves and their frustrations.
They both have backgrounds.
Stories.
But because
They are different
Opposites
They will never speak
Because they are scared
To open
Their hearts
And their minds.
So
There were two
Sitting on that bench
Not acknowledging
But never completely ignoring each other either.
A sort of perfect
Balanced
In-between
Of Yin
And Yang.
Posted in response to the challenge Two.
Comments
There's a sense of balance in your words, the short lines with the occasional lengthier ones, that reflects the theme of your poem well! I think we have all known a person like this in our lives: someone we're instantly and inexplicably drawn to, yet who appears distant, unreachable, too unlike ourselves for us to feel like we can make a true connection with them.
Thank you! I love the feedback.
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