let the world be wrong instead

for all the ways i insist on crossing rivers and wading through seas on my own, perhaps in the end there is still something small and almost shamefully tender in me that only wants someone who, no matter how wild or unreasonable i become, even when i can no longer tell north from south and earth from sky, will sit beside me and search for some impossible equation that proves the earth has turned upside down, rather than telling me that i am the one who has lost my way.