happily ever
I feel the wind cold around my eyes, and I know - the storm is coming. I turn to face the wind and see the rain, cold and damp, heading for us faster than we thought it could. It will be here, soon. Too soon.
And, I can close my eyes and know just what's in store. I've been here at least once before. Maybe another me in another life living out another dream, but it was this way, all the same. I know where this road ends.
I only didn't know till now that I was walking it.
Not entirely. I did or felt I did or thought I knew the feeling from time to time. That it was still familiar, still close enough to feel the edges of. To run my fingers over the outlines of the scar lines and remember the feeling of the burn.
From here, for now, I only wonder at which way the wind turns out beyond us. I can't know. I can't see beyond this moment, beyond this point, beyond this sky. I only know that the storm is coming, that the freezing point is on its way. I only know the downpour will be on us soon.
And I am not ready.
I'll try to stand, to brace, to lean against the wind that pushes me away. I'll try to bear, to stay, to cling to the remains of hope that might be left. And I'll try reason and logic and pain and fear and anger.
But when it all fails, I will still be in the storm.
And it will rage until its emotion is spent. And I will remain until my energy is spent. And who I was when the storm began will change, will be someone else when the storm passes. A face I cannot recognize, I life I cannot lead, a dream I cannot dream up, and a logic I cannot know. But somehow, I know, it will be the me that is left. And with that I'll carry on from here.
Here where the disaster in the night is dawning. Where the sirens are sounding and we can only try to run for higher ground. Where the water level is rising, and we can only try to hold on to the land. Where the wind has already been raging, and we can only try to shout above.
I feel it coming, passing above me and beyond me and all around me.
But, I was not ready.
I may never be.
Perhaps, I was not built this way. Perhaps the storm will overtake me. And, I will pass through the air like a vapor becoming a piece of whatever is on the other side.
If you find me then, perhaps, the colors will be a different shade, the heat a lighter color of red, and that world and that life will allow for the things we thought we had.
Or, the vapor is just a part of the air and you will breathe me in until your last breath escapes back into the night while another storm is brooding in another person's sky to test the same tests that we went through, but failed.
And, I can close my eyes and know just what's in store. I've been here at least once before. Maybe another me in another life living out another dream, but it was this way, all the same. I know where this road ends.
I only didn't know till now that I was walking it.
Not entirely. I did or felt I did or thought I knew the feeling from time to time. That it was still familiar, still close enough to feel the edges of. To run my fingers over the outlines of the scar lines and remember the feeling of the burn.
From here, for now, I only wonder at which way the wind turns out beyond us. I can't know. I can't see beyond this moment, beyond this point, beyond this sky. I only know that the storm is coming, that the freezing point is on its way. I only know the downpour will be on us soon.
And I am not ready.
I'll try to stand, to brace, to lean against the wind that pushes me away. I'll try to bear, to stay, to cling to the remains of hope that might be left. And I'll try reason and logic and pain and fear and anger.
But when it all fails, I will still be in the storm.
And it will rage until its emotion is spent. And I will remain until my energy is spent. And who I was when the storm began will change, will be someone else when the storm passes. A face I cannot recognize, I life I cannot lead, a dream I cannot dream up, and a logic I cannot know. But somehow, I know, it will be the me that is left. And with that I'll carry on from here.
Here where the disaster in the night is dawning. Where the sirens are sounding and we can only try to run for higher ground. Where the water level is rising, and we can only try to hold on to the land. Where the wind has already been raging, and we can only try to shout above.
I feel it coming, passing above me and beyond me and all around me.
But, I was not ready.
I may never be.
Perhaps, I was not built this way. Perhaps the storm will overtake me. And, I will pass through the air like a vapor becoming a piece of whatever is on the other side.
If you find me then, perhaps, the colors will be a different shade, the heat a lighter color of red, and that world and that life will allow for the things we thought we had.
Or, the vapor is just a part of the air and you will breathe me in until your last breath escapes back into the night while another storm is brooding in another person's sky to test the same tests that we went through, but failed.
0 Thought(s):
Post a Comment
<< Home