Beside

The withering leaf does not care
What anyone sees or thinks —
Of its fading, its life, its slow dissolution —
Quiet, unseen

What I rail against —
Whatever it is —

Corrupt politicians, the abysmal state of wherever
Nauseating news, sickening talk — even books
Insensitivity, ignorance, injustice

There is always someone
Who remains untouched
By what turns me inside out —
My deepest grief, my pain, my disgust
My clearest reflections, regrets, pride, plagues —

The one beside me
Doesn’t even know — is surprised to hear —
Cannot imagine — any of it —
All of it — is foreign to them
Utterly insignificant
To them —
Every thought I’ve had — every image, hope, memory
Sensation, judgment
Everything I revolt against, secretly desire
Pursue, am consumed by
Denigrate, elevate —
The entirety
Of my world — not an instant, not an inch —
Is known, touched, or felt
By the one sitting
Right beside me

And so — sometimes, I think
That all my pursuits, preoccupations, ponderings
Are worthless —

And then —
I forget even that
And return to caring — pushing, pulling
Raising, cutting down —
Someone, some idea, some place
Some feeling, some sight
Toward or away
From me

Though now —
I cannot forget
That none of it matters —
Not to the one beside me
And not, for long, to me

And maybe — just maybe —
I wonder, whether
Talking, embracing, touching
Holding, seeing
Showing care —
For what matters to me
For what matters to the one beside me —
Is what must be attempted

If it must happen — as it does anyway —
Should it not be engaged in
Consciously, deliberately —
Especially — if only because —
It is impossible
To truly show, to truly touch
To truly know
The other

But —

Isn’t such conscious, deliberate doing
Precisely what is
Ego

And so, I’m left with the certainty —
The impossibility —
Of being foreign
To the one beside me
Whether I let myself drift — aloof
Uncaring, unconcerned, uninvolved

Or with the certainty —
Of attempting the impossible
Caring, being concerned
Involved
At the risk of ego —
Reinforcing the very wall
That separates me
From the other

Either way, time passes
For both me and the other
Sometimes caring happens — as it does —
And other times

I wander away
Disgusted by my own egotism
Neediness — stubbornness —
To attempt the impossible

What then can I do
If it’s granted that I must let my days
Come to their natural fall — like the leaf

Must I not, unreservedly —
Let the ego be damned —

And whether or not
I am egoistic in caring, in trying
In attempting —

Still hold on
With all my might, to the branch
To the one beside me —
Through words, deeds, touch, and action —
Until the wind
Tears us apart