Together, Apart (Edit One)

[Richard]

Hey fuzzyllama1,
I found that the second part of this poem was stronger than the first. I'll go into more detail below:

Together, Apart
 
Together
He saw oversized scrubs, a body trying its very hardest
to fill every last stitch and pocket, endearingly,
honestly fit, she fashioned it and flowed freely,
through halls, two workers, perfect unison in hand and mind -I would suggest dropping the word "perfect". It seems a bit redundant to me.
chained to a soul duty, a personal creed -I see what you did with the word "soul". Personally, I would change it to the correct spelling, but others might disagree.
backgrounded by a full set of stars and stripes,
uniform, ammunition toted in a 50-pound camo backpack.
It made her back arch, ache, and upon a 95-pound frame,
still bore the mass of he and his whole world. -I like the idea in this line. It just needs to be expanded upon.
 
Her nervous ball of energy collided with his calm introversion,
fusion of two became ironically bonded -Rather than telling the reader that something is ironic, I would suggest just showing it some how.
coincidentally, positives and negatives interlacing
with dancing beauty, apparent imperfection, and silent pain.
papers flew by, whipped up in the frenzy, -Need a capital on "papers".
marked by cohort, professor, and friend alike -I thought this poem was about two soldiers, but now it sounds like it's about school.
no restraint was held by any
except for the two involved. They knew
the importance of patients over self. -patience?
 
Demons drag deeply, not even the most delicate -What demons? This is an image that needs to explained more.
dancer can spin away from such capricious claws.
Steps once in unison, a common music shared,
show signs of delineation eventually. Rhythm rules man, but -This idea of rhythm and the next line about the waltz should be expanded on. These could be interesting images to explore further.
woman need not waltz away from her own path
just to match his heartened attempts at keeping tempo.
Life is more than that dance, no matter how
interesting the back and forth makes it.
She will sway to her own symphony,
he will watch and listen. -The fact that "he" is just watching and listening seems to contradict the "interesting" back and forth mentioned a few lines earlier.
 
Apart
Sometimes silence is peace, nothing
to worry of but breath and blood,
nothing fills the lungs, expands and seeps slowly -I would end the image of silence as peace here. I find the next two lines take away from the first three lines.
into vessels, carrying weightless cargo on the backs of billions
calming countless masses
Sometimes silence is war, chaos
orders the air all around, vibrations rattle bones and tear skin
chaos scrambles jets and unleashes rivers, -War is chaotic. I just think you don't need to repeat the word "chaos". May be use a different word that would relate to war (i.e. hate, suffering, etc.).
tears stream and hearts push salinated gallons
 
She will stumble forward, blind of her future
tripping on her past, but the steps she takes are hers, -I like the image of "tripping on her past". My question is how does this relate to the silence in the last stanza?
no bigger than a size 3, the impressions she leaves
sink foundations and shatters frames, but she will never pass
without first picking up the pieces and perhaps stopping
to build him an easel. Her journey is art, splatter painting
over Las Meninas, finding La Guernica amidst the technicolor streaks.
There is no shame in her following the brush’s stroke
instead of pushing the paint where it does not want to go. -I like the last two lines here. I would suggest writing a whole poem about an artist painting a picture by expanding upon these two lines.
 
He does not have a woman, but he has his morals,
a compass bouncing around like flubber, -Comparing morals to a compass is a bit cliched.
hoping to find a sturdy surface that attracts him -Is the woman or his morals hoping here?
rather than the one-legged wooden stools
he finds himself so often stuck under,
old chewed gum, long void of flavor.
Perhaps his gray putty will, one day, dissolve into beautiful 
palates of paint that will splash and streak on her canvas,
but a caterpillar does not try to figure out how to become a butterfly,
he just becomes one. -I like this image of the butterfly, but it could clearer on how this relates to the man and woman.
Until then, he has a friend. -I think you need to explore more of why they are just friends. Just saying something about morals isn't enough detail for me.

Overall, I think you got a workable poem here. It just needs some editing/revising. I look forward to seeing where you take this from here.

Cheers,
Richard