I don't remember the last time I was here... It's all merging together. Converging. Congealing. Pooling. Bleeding out. I don't remember the last time I stopped to ask how I felt. I just do or I don't.
And with my darling blooming, I just try to keep it so very still. But, there are hurricanes dancing all around. These chaotic winds threatening underneath. But, outside I wish that it would all start pouring. The warmer and cooler currents colliding in the sky. Bursts of lightning. It would calm me down. I could keep still.
It's the first time, I let them have their way. It's the first time I've wept uncontrollably. It's the first time I've been so angry I could see stars before sunset. My nerves are raw. Screamed like a banshee. It wasn't deserved. But I'm not sorry. Even they can feel it. My little guardians milling around my legs. The neighbors probably suspect I'm insane. In this condition.
In your condition.
Everyone believes you're speaking on some obvious level, but you aren't.
Even now, you are connecting the dots.
The picture seems accurate, but it isn't.
A handwritten letter from the doctor's office nearly made me cry. A couple of sentences and symbols probably sent from a mobile device halfway round the world made me smile.
I guess I crave some sort of nearness.
But, just spiraling farther and father and farther and farther with this brave face painted on.
Blame it on the sickness, the circumstance, the life, the death...
But, it's that deep wound. That place you thought was healed...
Now pulsing with the all too familiar ache.
It's a myriad of memories in a tomb sealed shut... flung wide open.
The shroud of doubt.
The moment when innocence was stolen.
How she wept in the floor, and i spoke the tongues of angels.
The walls I mastered.
The walls that fell.
The deep betrayal.
Always in echoes.
And berate my memory for its inability to forget.
And the wide open space I painted...
running down the walls I've built.
Or shout out loud.
But, find me here.
The way it is.
Not how it seems.
And make it still.