Of sins and retribution

I'm guilty
Of falling apart at the seams
Of being in possession
Of two halves

One for rebellion
And the other
Nostalgia
One bittersweet escape
And the other
A breathtaking homeward flight.
I'm guilty
Of one of me
Running into the other.
A heady collision
Sans embrace.
Or maybe
Just maybe,
A fission into oblivion
A heartbroken uncertainty
Of never getting around
to being complete.
I'm guilty
Of falling apart
Of being lynched of my self
Of running a flat trajectory
In this world
That is
Hopelessly round.