My lips are numb.
My fingers are too stiff.
My eyes are dry.
My mind too weak to find excuses.
My spirit too disillusioned to even dream.
So this is how one feels when one is at a loss.
When one sees reality all too plainly.
When one gets stabbed with the sharp truth.
Can I ask for immunity?
From the pain?
From the mounting hurt?
From the fear that chokes?
Can I borrow?
a shallow laugh to wipe the tears away.
a hollow hug to make the burden a little lighter?
a reckless moment where I can run so I can chase my floating dreams.
a crayon to color the moments of solitude.
a longer sleep to oblivion to wash the nagging truth.
Can I, just for once… pass through walls?
to wander aimlessly…
to touch the stars…
to burn with the sun…
to laugh with the waves…
to conquer dragons…
to name new lands…
to create new worlds…
humming silence wanders across the room and beyond. Along with it is my roaming mind, chasing the red diaries of the sane, prevailing beyond the hateful reality of not being able to vanish upon will. All the while preparing the sheets… tying them together, making sure it is roped correctly, tied tightly to the window, as I prepare to jump to the little escape the world is offering.
Outside, I see no one familiar.
Outside, I will not be suffocated with lies that once drove me to madness.
Outside, no walls to abide and no bricks to scamper from…no cup to pour my blood on…no boxes to store my heart…No smoke to make me cry.
Outside…where there is nothing to hold on to and everything is new. Where the strings no longer have its magic and the words pure and true.