Not a Poem but a Thought

I lay awake, the ceiling spinning, emotions flowing through my heart, an unsteady rhythm of unclear consequences. It’s been months since I’ve felt this way, months since the pain of reality has surged into my mind, an unwelcome flood of destruction.

I always struggled with the night, with the sounds of my breathe and the cars passing slowly outside. I always struggled keep my mind in my body, to pin my soul to my bones and not drift off into another existence, where the world is free from drifting minds.

Thoughts crash into me, sending me skidding through the alleyways of my emotions, and with memories as walls, I begin to fall into the past, into times that I do not want to see again.

Your face laughing, the curve of your smile as it calls to me, beckons me further into my own mind. You grab my hand and pull it to your chest, to your lips, and release. But I cannot move anywhere, but I cannot move forward or backward. I am stuck. You grab for my waist and pull your body to mine, a long hug that deserves no end. I grab for you, cling to you, run my fingers through your hair only to find air, to find space, to find emptiness around.

I bang against the bed and scream into my pillow. The past has returned with a vengeance. You have returned to my mind. And as I sob out my memories and let them drift away with my tears, I feel a growing panic inside me, a growing urge to escape, to run away from my body, from my mind, from what cannot be escaped, from what I must stay with eternally.

The memory of you is etched in my soul and with your absence, I lose more of myself each day, each night that reminds me of what you once were, of what we once were, of being happy.

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