A/N: Written for the Diversity Writing Challenge, c4 - poetry collection centered around a specific character
Faces of the Witch
3. Shannon and Kanon
Those one set of clothes never really fit.
Don't fit her.
Don't fit him.
They're a pendulum that swing
and they're pushed from either end,
Him,
Her,
until they can find the middle ground
they swing past, again and again
But they won't. They won't.
Instead, they swing only further on
Swing swing swing until they can't even guess where the middle point might be, where that blind spot's gone –
They just swing and swing until they're two entirely different beings, different lives, who can never converge.
And then they face each other: through the mirror, through the doors, through the words of others and on the battlefield. They face each other and they fight because they share their existence and their time and only one of them can emerge the victor in the end: only one of them can continue on. They can swing all they like but the swinging will never end and they'll only get further apart and then ram into each other with even greater force and one day that force will shatter the pendulum mid-swing and they'll both crack, both break –
As though they aren't broken enough already, pitiful them who can't even find a pair of clothes that fit right.