The Faintest Of Whispers Creep Through The Timeless Ground Which Once Enclosed It So Tight. Traveling

The faintest of whispers creep through the timeless ground which once enclosed it so tight. Traveling through the perils of retrospect I can't help but wind up on the grounds where such memories lie. My fingers itch as they outline the key to a wrought iron gate sealing me from an indelible past I wish to forget.

These whispers become harsh murmurs and fight against the dirt trying n vain to keep it sealed. However, I cannot escape. Those words are picked up immediately and become visceral as they swim through my veins and poison me with that internal toxin of regret. I had thought these skeletons would find peace in the graveyard after being disregarded into the darkest corners of my closes. Instead their calls become more dense and sharp as they fight for my attention. They fight to be remembered. I beg to forget. I adorned their resting place with tombstones and gave well meaning goodbyes. I speak in eulogies at the thought of their essence remembering nothing but the best. I continually expand my vocabulary in hopes that I can find the words to quell these voices. The stages of grief have reached an intermission and I'm stuck in that 3rd stage of bargaining. Maybe I choose to stay behind the curtain in order to avoid the audience of the next production - depression. However, the calls from the maw of tarnished memories are pushing me to face the predetermined script of this torrid production. These voices refuse to die. They will not rest until I face the rotting corpse of my mistakes.

Waiting

When waiting many lament the slow pace of time. That second hand seems to drag on for hours as it crawls from one tick to the next. This time however it feels as though time has stopped. All matters of action have been suspended as I wait for -

That's just it. My life has involuntarily stalled for no defining reason. However, I'm anxious. Anxious for a new event to drag down that second hand and start time again. But how does one wait for an undetermined amount of time? How are you to just sit with anxiety bricking upon itself? I fear there is no end to this purgatory. Those which define the passage of time and space are nothing more than elusive films playing out somewhere beyond my reality. I yearn to be a part of the script yet instead I float haphazardly along the edges - waiting. This is not a timer with a predetermined stop. It is simply a clock measuring the infinite expanse of space expanding into a ceaseless void of nothing.

You know, you can't hold onto me forever. As ideal as a sunset, it is not infinite. The light will bleed over the skyline and disappear behind its horizon.

United we will be pushed along the shores of life by the currents of time. The abrasive edges of each argument and each disagreement will contour my shape until I feel different in your arms. We will cling tighter to each other in a last ditch attempt to desperately ignore the jagged edges poking out from beneath, itching along under our skin.

But

one of us will let go and allow the sea to swallow the strange remnants of what we once were.

On Ignorance

There was once a light of curiosity which shined from behind your gaze exploring every facet of my heart and seeking out new sources of my affection which went deeper than where you've already been. However, that light has dimmed as you've found barrier after barrier in your way. The wanderlust which was once the impetus for your exploration has started to melt away. The deteriorating force of doubt and deprivation is the nexus which has replaced the fulfilling promise of hope and love. I admit I had hoped to halt your journey at this point. I do not wish for you to go further because I want to retain pieces of myself for fear of your awakening. There is this omniscient fear which looms over the vast expanses of my soul: you're only here because you're ignorant to your own worth. You should be delving into caves of gold not hiking along dirt trails. There is a hope which builds within you and I fear I am not enough to meet your expectations. You deserve to find the treasures which can match the ones that make up who you are. When you finally realize you deserve better I want to at least look at the unexplored caves you haven't touched and have the dignity to say "I wasn't that foolish". I don't halt your journey because I don't love you. Words are like the unyielding tracks along a map; they lead nowhere. I cannot string enough meanings along a sentence to describe what I feel. But if I had to say something,

No one on this earth has ever wanted anything as much as I want you.

I feel there was a disconnect somewhere early in my development. Somehow the essence of who I am did not inject itself into the shell born into the world. Those around me are visceral characters, their souls flowing freely through their veins, their thoughts somehow in sync with not only themselves but those around them. I feel as though I was born into darkness, clinging desperately onto this body, hoping to find some sort of harmony between the two. However I feel so fleeting, as though I will never fully embody the person I was supposed to be. My heart pumps blood yet the beat lies somewhere in the dark. My brain shoots neurons yet the thoughts lie somewhere within the depths of a one dimensional dusk. I am simply the shadow following an empty shell.

I trust your beauty. I do not wish to make changes to you but instead watch in awe as you unfold before me. The beautiful gestalt of your existence overrules any perceived imperfection. The perfection of your beauty lies within the essence of you being free to unfold without the restraint of judgement. One does not look to the horizon and insult the uneven amount of clouds along the sunset. I would never point out a superfluous trait when, in the serendipity of the universe, I was granted the delicate fortune to see you.