Dispassion

It is hard to know

who to fear more

ourselves

or the people 

that we love

I already knew 

that you were

kinder than me

not much of a reach

as I am always forgetting 

that people are not puppets 

I cannot tell

if you are protecting me

or your own heart

but I expect you possess 

more kindness 

than I do wisdom 

I am always burning

or bruising myself 

with the carelessness

of my own urgency 

this light and dark world 

so sweet, so difficult 

is crushing me in its hands

and I can’t decide 

if I’m running 

away from the luminous dawn

or running towards the dusk.