From somewhere in the turned around heart...
Still, that same old feeling is there somewhere. Wish it would go away, but it won't...know it won't, but don't know why.
Fear...could be fear. Could be pain or frustration or exhaustion or confusion or just a feeling of muddled senses. Don't know - but still, it thrives like a living beast burning everything inside like some kind of loose wildfire, tearing apart the peieces of everything until there is nothing left.
Thought to write something nice...that didn't work. Thought to write something sad or glad or een touching...that didn't work either. So instead, sat down to write something at all.
Still not so sure that that worked either.
Wishing for direction, either from above or from right here. Seeking and searching, but finding so many empty hallways that it seems there is no one in the house anymore.
Alone. But is it possible to be that alone? Disconnection with many things...central ideas that don't make sense at the heart of things anymore.
Looking up to look back down. Or looking down to look back up. Or looking everywhere to see anything at all. Sense turning senseless, but still having sense enough to realize it.
Concentrated aggrivation in a world where everything is gray, everything is cold, everything is frozen like slick ice where everything that touches it freezes and shatters.
Don't ask to many questions about this place, about this world, or about this heart. Too many questions make for too many answers, answers that are far too elusive. Instead, just know.
Know that there is little sense to be made. Know that there are few words to be said. Know that there is no explanation fit enough to describe what this is...or why it has to be.
Just know that it must...
-RK
Fear...could be fear. Could be pain or frustration or exhaustion or confusion or just a feeling of muddled senses. Don't know - but still, it thrives like a living beast burning everything inside like some kind of loose wildfire, tearing apart the peieces of everything until there is nothing left.
Thought to write something nice...that didn't work. Thought to write something sad or glad or een touching...that didn't work either. So instead, sat down to write something at all.
Still not so sure that that worked either.
Wishing for direction, either from above or from right here. Seeking and searching, but finding so many empty hallways that it seems there is no one in the house anymore.
Alone. But is it possible to be that alone? Disconnection with many things...central ideas that don't make sense at the heart of things anymore.
Looking up to look back down. Or looking down to look back up. Or looking everywhere to see anything at all. Sense turning senseless, but still having sense enough to realize it.
Concentrated aggrivation in a world where everything is gray, everything is cold, everything is frozen like slick ice where everything that touches it freezes and shatters.
Don't ask to many questions about this place, about this world, or about this heart. Too many questions make for too many answers, answers that are far too elusive. Instead, just know.
Know that there is little sense to be made. Know that there are few words to be said. Know that there is no explanation fit enough to describe what this is...or why it has to be.
Just know that it must...
-RK
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