Thursday, September 10, 2009

Dying Passion

Drifting slowly away, gradually, slightly, even without discomfort. What is this incidious thief who takes all that used to be so wonderful? Little by little and piece by piece the magic disappears as if pulled gently apart until the tiny parts fade away into darkness unnoticed.

Passion's dying; ripped from the heavens; cast from the brilliance of stars. Falling alone and afraid. Slipping down through dirty cotton clouds posing as substance but offering none. Falling farther and farther away from its highest heights. Screaming in anguish then crashing upon dark wet rocks. Searing pain gives way to lifelessness.

Sharp gasp; hand clenching my breast steadying my heart; holding, seeking, hoping. Feeling the lonely drumming against the place that was once so full. Breath slowly escapes in a long thin wisp of a sigh. Is it too late? Is it gone?

There is such emptiness, but there is no pain in emptiness.
Sorrow creeps forward only in thought.

Monday, September 7, 2009

Using Time

Alone
Always Alone
Drifting
Using Time
Exploring
Dark Recesses
Lost
Without You