Committed. Poem by Kim Dang

You are committed out of fear, as to
not suffer the rage of the abandoned.
And those streams that befall you, your eyes
they cannot lie to me despite how frequently such
omissions are attempted.

I'm reaching closer to the cusp which separates long lasting
to just each moment's fury. The halted silent lag
time in between have gotten shorter.
My truths, far reaching, blurry.
And all of this to find out what really maims me now.

The lessons of adolescence left neglected scars
for having had them, I've not once given them a second glance.
All of this now, in this moment. All of this. It's all random.
A disappointed student leaving a barren classroom.
Where a time ago, my eager expression filled this seat.
The sound of laughter filled these hallways. Touched, learning.

And all of this, left. Impossible to stay within my reach.
No carefree captures on glossy paper. Nothing documented to say
this time was beautiful and it existed. Just a stumble, and I keep walking.
A slight obstruction on my distant road.

On the back of my neck, I feel the merciless rays from the setting sun.
I feel the itch from where the dust have crawled into socks' crevices.
Hair swinging, hands in my pocket feeling the warmth of my thighs.
And all you'll see is my backpack fidgeting on my shoulders, continuing
on my path.

But I was that much closer to understanding. Why you keep turning
cycling back. Why lessons were tossed aside so you could feel that pain again.
The rush, your addiction. In any sense it was the type of living that made you feel
alive.
All in your world, the rushes, your roller coasters, you've brought them into mine.
It was you. I questioned myself, but it was really your world you tried to upkeep
because I - I was the anomaly.
I was unaffected, aloof, you had to break me down.

I let your volcanoes break me down. Another victim on the list. Check.
How many others must you encounter before you give those scars a second glance.
Will it stop, ever? Not now, not for years. Not a chance.

You tell me you wanted to be a good person. How many attempted failures
will it take, for you to see. That your attempts end up failing and everything that's uttered
was a thousand times redundant - 'it's meant to be'.