"split, down the middle"

I feel strange,

As if a devil had a hand around my throat,

Squeezed but gently,

Waiting for the moment to truly take my breath away.

I am caught in a landslide,

Tearing down the houses on the hillside with me,

Gleefully, but also tearfully, split down the middle

Of sentimentality for the houses,

Lost in the destruction,

And excitement for what may be to come.

If we can function as individuals,

Why do we choose not to function in groups?

Maybe it is the preference to be alone,

Maybe it is the paranoia.

Or maybe it is just knowing that it is already far too late.