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Aug. 5th, 2005 02:10 pmIn the silence of my mind, I see an empty expanse of gray. Walking slowly in the grooves of my path, I ponder my existence. Whether I am alive or dead. What lessons life is meant to bring. Whether a companion is needed to be happy. Why friends are needed to nourish the emotional well-being. What it means to truly live if you have no soul. What does death bring? Or what it means. What a soul means to life.
A shadow crosses my path, leaving a blurred line in front of me and mimicking my perception of reality. I stop, unwilling to cross the line, the line that leads to more questions than my mind could wrap itself around and savor like melting chocolate. Is it easier to be numb than to feel or think?
I stare at nothing, allowing the expanse of gray to shimmer into soft colors, sharpening in focus as reality imploded inside me and making me aware. Aware of where I am, of who I am, and why I am.
The world is still a blur as tears slip down my face, aware of each emotion flitting through me, lifting and suppressing me in the space I occupy. As a soft breeze lift stray strands of hair across my face, I realize that in my mind, I trace your name, walking the grooves of the memories of your life while my fingers unknowingly follow the raised carvings on your tombstone.
And still, I am lost under the heavy air surrounding your grave.
A shadow crosses my path, leaving a blurred line in front of me and mimicking my perception of reality. I stop, unwilling to cross the line, the line that leads to more questions than my mind could wrap itself around and savor like melting chocolate. Is it easier to be numb than to feel or think?
I stare at nothing, allowing the expanse of gray to shimmer into soft colors, sharpening in focus as reality imploded inside me and making me aware. Aware of where I am, of who I am, and why I am.
The world is still a blur as tears slip down my face, aware of each emotion flitting through me, lifting and suppressing me in the space I occupy. As a soft breeze lift stray strands of hair across my face, I realize that in my mind, I trace your name, walking the grooves of the memories of your life while my fingers unknowingly follow the raised carvings on your tombstone.
And still, I am lost under the heavy air surrounding your grave.
