,,

the past and present
they sidle and gently whisper

these irreconcilable two 
somehow saturate
and lose their 

boundaries bleed
together they're as real
as a walk down a
peat path

the two tied
and one haunts the other
until reality ceases

and I hate it
I can pull and push
grit my teeth and kick their welded bonds
I would try anything to

detach 

but I'm the walker on the peat path

my inhales and exhales create the rhythm that fuels them and
independence raises a white flag.