Uncertain

I am angry that nothing is certain

No one is sure

I am tossed into this whirlwind with this realization

I realize that love isn’t infinite,

I can subscribe to the belief of its infinity

But I have seen what waits down that tunnel

I realize that many things take two

Two people to love or more if you dare

Two people to converse or more if you’re dared

I find comfort in the singular and I feel awful about it

I feel bad that despite craving intimacy

I am okay being alone

Should these forces, opposing at their core, rage

Inside me

I am a multitude I am a mess

I am unclassified, no one is certain

I am angry and heavy

To realize the possible course of life

That this path I am on may warrant abandon tomorrow

Or will need a sole traveler in the end

But I dread most the moment I will need to part

With love and my love.

By Allan M. Kiptoo

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