I wrote this a while ago when I was in a funk. I'm in a funk again, so I'll repost. It'll clear soon enough, but I am where I am. :)
26 March 2007
She Creeps
My brain is loud, then silent.
These emotions a raging ball of tempestuous urge, desire, and need.
Spirit low and empty, then full of light and optimism.
This is far better than the creeping, dreadful and loathsome melancholy. Melancholy laced in apathy, she whispers to my heart while I rest. I wake to remnants of a sorrow so vast and black, the emptiness is blaring loud in its oppressive silence.
I fear I will not wake from the dreams she offers my beating heart. Or, worse, awaken to a dank, cold void as reality.
I choke back tears and realize I’m grateful for them; sadness is better than nothingness.
I long for better dreams, aching to find a new home for her pale whispers and silently screaming darkness.
And yet, she remains. Cold, alone and creeping…
- KEM
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