CURRENTS OF US

 

Currents of Us

Time flows relentless, a river’s ceaseless churn,

Each moment spilling into the next,

Bound by the law that one spark breeds another.

Blame’s a slick oil, too wild to pin,

It stains us both when we try to cast it,

Slipping through fingers like silt in a stream.

Don’t trick yourself into seeing clear lines,

Truths twist, tales clash, though no one lies.

Why clutch at ghosts you’ll never tame?

You wouldn’t trap a torrent in a cracked jar,

Yet here we stand, chasing what won’t hold,

Drowned in the rush of what we can’t contain.

I’ve carried a fire to prove my worth,

As long as flaws beg a mending hand.

Each step I take cracks the earth’s old crust,

A woman’s stride, reshaping the ground.

Choose your path, then carve it bold—

The best we might do is brace each other’s fall.

Hours cascade like rapids over stone,

No map to warn what the next will bring.

We name what we see, shout it to the wind,

Then let it vanish, foam over the falls.

The high ground’s a myth, not so lofty after all—

We’re both just souls who’ve stumbled, scarred.

I hope it was enough, this jagged dance,

Not flawless, but fierce in its fleeting truth.

May we laugh one day, call it worth the ache,

The bruises we earned in love’s rough tide.

My proof’s not in perfection, but in this pulse,

A spark to show you—it was all for you.

The world bends under our own made weight,

Things we love crack, and gravity hums its tune.

We can only hold so much before it spills,

Eyes fixed on a horizon that keeps unrolling.

The frame grows vast, too wide for our grasp,

Yet I love you reckless, beyond my own bounds.

I’ve walked these banks where shadows pool,

Searching for signs in the water’s fleeting script.

The current pulls, indifferent to our pleas,

But your face—a beacon—keeps me afloat.

No proof to chase now, just this truth to share:

Every scar we carved was worth the fight.

Choose your mark, then etch it deep,

Then stride into the storm with no regret.

The river’s song will drown our doubts,

And maybe, just maybe, we’ll see it through—

Not to conquer time, but to hold each other,