Sailing Ship Wreckage from Pixabay
The tears from the sky would not stop falling.
Grains of salt deteriorating my eyes.
Sorrow far below, deep and cold.
The crevices on the bottom of the sea, hold their own secrets.
Never found; lost.
Unrecovered amongst ghosts of an era, eternally deceased.
The enemy of alternate realities.
The “what-if’s” of existence, withered.
An embryo of malfunctions.
The beginning of truth sheds its light, deceiving me.
I have nothing left but dreams and fantasies inside my own mind.
Scrap Metal, Rusty and Mossy. Image from Pixabay
A long time has passed and I’ve forgotten how to breathe. How can one forget to breathe? How can one wake up and forget who they are? What have I done with my life since you have been away? Four years have passed and…. nothing…. nothing…. nothing….
Why did you leave me? Why couldn’t you stay? When your heart breaks, how do you repair it? How does one go on? What’s there to go onto?
There are pieces missing. Splinters I constantly eat. How does one not chew the acid? How can one swallow their pain whole?
Four years and you have never said anything bad. Four years and you have not found me. Four years, and I am still waiting. For what though? A miracle?
I wonder what I’d do when I saw you again. Would I faint? Would I freeze? I know I wouldn’t turn and run, but would I scream as if I had just seen a ghost?
I don’t know! Let’s not test fate. Destiny brought us together and love destroyed us. What once was will never be and what will be, we’ll just never know!
Blackberries. Image from Pixabay
During the fruitful years of my childhood, I’d pick and eat blackberries. Many thorns poked me and the blood from my wounds hid under the purple dye of the fruit. Many berries were sweet but some were sour. The ones highly out of my reach withered and died; such is life. We cannot have everything and we cannot help everyone. Those who do not make it will plant the seeds for next year’s crop.
Duckling in Water. Image from Pixabay.
There is nothing like the sweet smell of death scratching so closely to my own life. I let the feeling linger like the kiss of my lover. My temptress and fleeting desire. If I could, I would let it in, open my door to its sweet embrace. Let the embers burn me because I feel frozen. It’s not that I am suicidal, it’s not that I don’t care, it’s just that I am tired of trying to understand when I don’t. Why do these things happen? Why is it that I can let my heart bleed onto your sleeve and the blood does not stain you but washes off of you like water to the feathers of a duck? If the purpose of life is to love, you have me at my weakest and most vulnerable. I allowed myself to crack my door and you bulldozed through it. Now I need my White Knight to come. If you kill him in my longing to be near him, I can cloak myself in his armor and learn to become him.
The legend of the White Knight isn’t about him saving me. It’s about me learning how to save myself.
Roller Coaster Ride at an Amusement Park. Image from Pixabay
It has been years since I first clung to the illusion and fantasy that you cared. I lost myself in your presence because I believed you could help me since you had already changed me. I became who you wanted me to be: the good little tramp tempting you the way you liked. I learned your secrets and perverse desires. I should have been mortified, but I wasn’t. This says a lot about me, does it not? We can pretend to be good and wear our masks, but who we are will show itself truly through time. Someday, I will learn how to move past this and say goodbye.
Blooms on a Dead Tree. Personal Photograph.
Blooms on a dead tree
Pink and white against the branches
Sometimes you look sad
And I don’t want you to be
Gray clouds emerging
Covering all blue skies
Beating heart uncontrollable
In your powerful presence
Rain falling into muddy puddles
And my feet freeze
Your skin against mine
Makes me forget my nightmare
The days are shorter
Reminding me that all life will end
But in this moment you kiss me
And nothing else matters
Hot Air Balloons. Image from Pixabay
A thousand worlds lost within my train of thought.
How many balloons just popped?
Stray away, run away.
Hide from all that’s inside.
I let all of the possibilities end,
With the putting down of my pen.