Then the Twin Towers Fell (my September 11 story)

I couldn't leave the woman
I was living with
on September 10th.

It was the life I knew
and she needed me,
but I stopped needing her.

I had strayed
long before this,
and only my material things
were still there.

We shared a bed
but were not intimate,
we shared a life
but were disconnected,
we shared a house
but were not married.

She survived a lifetime of
sexual abuse and trauma
but the scars carved
unbridgeable chasms
into our life together.

After seven years
it had all become passionless,
dutiful,
and I cheated on her
which only added to my guilt,
fueled my obligation,
and strengthened my paralysis.

My soul cried
to be released
from the twin towers
of guilt and obligation.

The next morning
an airplane flew into
the World Trade Center,
and like others,
I saw the instant replay
as a tragic accident.
Then came a second plane,
then, a third at the Pentagon
and a fourth destined
for the White House.

Suddenly,
the world seemed disoriented,
knocked from its axis,
hurtling, upside down
in chaotic twisted disorder.

Shock and suspicion and confusion
went viral
because the terrorists could be anywhere,
or everywhere.

I saw the quick and unforgiving
nature of reality,
the fragility,
the precious lives
snuffed out
like cigarette butts,

and my guilt and obligation
seemed small and pointless,

and that motorcycle I was riding
in the fast lane
after midnight
without the headlights off,

pulled over

and I knew
I had to make
a change

and then the twin towers fell,

and one month and a day
after September 11th,

I left her
for the woman
who eventually
become my wife.

[Posted for #OpenLinkNight at http://dversepoets.com/ - Love that site!]