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June 20, 2011

In the space between

what I have and what I want,

between edges of slabs of sidewalk

between breathing in and breathing out

between love

and hate and


In the space between


between beads of sweat,

making their way south,

between nodding and shaking of head – between yes and no;

In the space between not full and full

between lacy branches silhouetted against the setting sun

between words on a page, between inspiration

and nothing;

in the space between you and me,

the space between what you say and what you do,

the space between what I say and what I feel

the space between

here and there and there and here

is where I struggle,

where I grow weary of waiting

and hoping and discerning and figuring out.

It’s where I get crazy and needy

and more of all the things I hate about myself

it’s where I can’t find clarity, can’t be grounded, centered;

where truth means nothing,

where everything is open to interpretation

where downward spirals begin and end

where black and white have no place,

only shades of gray are welcome, make sense.

It’s a dangerous, lonely place, this in-between place,

and yet, and yet,

I find myself here,


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