Between Worlds

I am neither here nor there, neither entering nor leaving, neither casting nor setting. Everything exist before me, dangling like a gaudy ornament. Have. Have. Have. A voice seems to chime. Want, want, want. I counter. Having and wanting: that is the crack between which I have fallen. Stretching out my right arm I grab a hold of Having. With my left arm I pull in Wanting. I hold on, but don't seem to know which one to let go of first and in which order. Having doesn't elimnate wanting. Wanting doesn't elimnate having.
These are two siamese twins that should never have been seperated at birth.
Had they never been separated, I would never have fallen through the crack.