It’s it: Poem

Author’s note: The poem below is a conversational piece between two people. You can find more here.

 

Do you ever wonder if it is easy for the ones who gave up?

Hm?

Say, you hustle. You give it your all. You-

Give what my all?

It. That something you dream of, or maybe too scared to dream of because what if someday it isn’t yours at all? What if it just stays a dream? You know, it.

Okay, it. Go on.

Yes so, you give it your all. You’re addicted except it’s better than addiction. You’re in love with it. But wait, isn’t love just addiction at the end of the day?

Okay, too many thoughts there.

Ah, alright. What I’m saying is you have something you don’t give up for.

Something. Someone. Yeah.

Yes, something, someone, anything. But you have it, you have the need, the passion, the fire to keep going. But it isn’t always easy.

What isn’t?

It isn’t always easy to keep going. It is tough, it pains your soul. It’s like you’re walking on a fiery road and the only way out of it is going through it. Reaching the finish line. You cannot stop midway, you’ll burn.

I get what you’re saying. Going through is hard, yes but I believe it doesn’t pain your soul, it powers it. Just the idea of going through with it, attempting to finish it patches the holes in your soul.

Okay, imagine this, take the fiery road, for instance, and you keep going. You attempt a dance with the fire. You ask the fire for a chance, a second one, then a third. But each time, it pushes you an inch closer to heartbreak. Major one. It burns you; you only realize that when the wind sweeps off the ash which was a part of you. But you, you still keep going. Shamelessly writing letters to fire as if there’s any chance for you to start a chapter together.

Quite a picture you have painted there. Then?

Heh, anyway, you keep going. Until that one day, fire says yes. Fire taps on your shoulder for you to sing that song, to tell that story, to plant that kiss. But you don’t have any stories to tell, all your songs are sung and your kisses sloppy. Meaning, you reach the finish line after days and days of just going on. What’s the point of it all, you are tired at the finishing line? The fire burnt you out. Entirely.

Hmm.

This is why I wonder if people who give up have it easy.

Wow, this was a lot. It makes sense, too. But what if the fire was testing you? What if each time it crushed your hope, it watched if you could build it again? What if each time it turned you down, it was silently observing if you’d ask again? What if the fire was seeing if you were strong enough to handle it? I mean, it is fire after all. Not everyone has fire. Not everyone has the fire. Not everyone has it.

Ah. It.

I don’t think the ones who give up have it easy because giving up is not easy. Giving up itself is hard. It is tough knowing you’ll never dance with fire because you cannot handle the burns. Or maybe you can, maybe at a point you could, you just don’t want to anymore. It is possible you don’t want that date with fire anymore because having the wind sweep your ashes off seems oddly settling too.

The ones who can’t have the fire, have the winds.

True.

And no, maybe, maybe you’re not tired of reaching the finish line. Maybe the fire didn’t entirely burn you out. Maybe once you’ve made it, you don’t believe it. Because who knows where the finish line is? Who knows where it all gets over? Maybe you’re not tired at the finish line, you’re just not sure if it is one. Maybe the fire didn’t burn you out, maybe you’re just surprised the fire doesn’t burn you anymore. It’s home. It’s it.

It’s it.

It’s it.