Preface
So I grief, letting my eyes fill to the capacity that it can hold. "Wait for it" my mind whispered. So I obediently wait for the gasps to come; this is significant for it marks the release and birth of the unseen turmoil that battles to break out. I fumble around this limited space I have thinking, how do I let this flow through any easier or faster in fact. Would the lights matter, should I be standing now? Unknowingly my hand reaches for my heart, did it matter that it didn't do much to stop the splitting pain? Or maybe this act reassures me that by doing so I won't snap, or break into two; holding my heart and torso in place, and what ever that connects this useless, fragile shell of a body.
Now I can't tell if it was real. For I lie to myself too many times that you don't exist. I could sketch this image but what if it was all a lie again? It was picture perfect; fading lights of these colours, yellow, orange and black to reenact your swift departure. The outlines, wrong, too vivid, too focus. It screams your name.
No comments:
Post a Comment