with each ticking and talking another piece falls up into the air, flying in search of a new dawn. floating, waiting, dying.
i didn't notice as it was happening -- it came quite naturally to sell this and trash that till there was nothing. then the emptiness sunk(more) in. then there were the nights floating along the streets stalking something with the key to the cellar in which all the doll's mangled pieces were kept. there were the nights where the lamps lit happy faces evilly; the nights staring into blind abandon. there was the beautiful guitar made of mahogany which fetched fifty dollars for some temporary fixes and a night in the run down shack where we would all sleep six people to a room, and when that ran out there was the halfway house down the next vile tributary.
they say once you've killed a man, you never forget it.
there's really no way to unsee anything truly evil, and it's impossible to come to terms with it or wash it out. you see its face everywhere. in your beloved, in your wildest dreams, and even in the kindest of gestures there is always a bloody, sodding stain that never gets clean.
the jackal visits me at all hours of the day and as he's gnawing the flesh right off my bones, he laughs and reminds me that the sun sets in the west
so i walk east. walking, walking, always walking. humming a futile hymn and aching for just another hour's worth of light, if only to make proper camp in lush gardens with just the trees who talk wisely of nice things. fatigue sets in and it's only a nap and i sink into the soil and rise up into the atmosphere to begin again.
When darkness falls on your mind it brings forth an endless night filled with terrors and shadows made of nightmares that slink through the muscles. It gnaws on your nerves, poisoning your body to weaken it. It claws at hopes and dreams and inspirations until they are nothing more(more) than rotting, gaping wounds: painful, oozing reminders of what you could be but can't reach. The abyss stares at you, slowly ripping you to bits and watching you scream silence and bleed opportunities until not a drop is left in your body.
When darkness falls on your heart it summons the fog. It invades your body, thickening the air to wear on your lungs until breathing it all the challenge you can stand. It turns your body to stone and your eyes to glass. Thoughts are heavy and everything is slow as you wade through the sludge of life until all that is left is to fall and let it consume you.
When darkness falls on your mind, there is agony. When darkness falls on the heart, there is nothing.
One day someone will come along and open the curtains, letting the sunlight cast beams of breath-giving light into the shadows, sending up pools over yellow rays and dust specks, piercing the darkness with a steady, fiery passion. When that day comes, will you step into the light and take their hand, trusting in yourself and in them, or will you press into the corner and turn your face away?(less)