2 months to oblivion

In the world of gotta have it now and fast food dreams I mourn the death of relational reality. If it was even reality.

Anger at words fill my soul. Buffering the void that was left in parting. Unspoken parting. To re-read the reading until the eyes burn from exertion. Incomplete thoughts of shock and awe and a deep feeling of sadness overcome. But not for me.

My journey continues on broken steps. Each one precariously set before me ready for the slightest weight to send it rolling. The uphill battle raging freely with never an end in sight, just the hill. I wear my armor proudly, taking each step with purpose for I will not fall…I refuse to fall. I refuse to fall.

Taken in with nonsense and distracted by the mirage. Leeching onto my brain with a false sense of wholeness, completeness, oneness only to dissipate in the strongest wind. Ciabola how you called my name…and I searched you out, feet bleeding as I walked up your golden steps only to cry out in pain as the haze lifted and the rubble was all that remained of your past glory. Woe to the heat of the moment in pleasures taken for granted.

Cracked, not broken. For I will not break in the face of 2 months. But two months will break before me leaving a gap where an ocean once stood. In the vast expanse of the dry empty beds scavengers search for the crack that drained the pool. A small trivial imperfection unleashing the tidal fury of unbound love whose waters were black. The resulting whirlpool tearing fresh scars into an unhealed land. The resulting emptiness leaving a land begging for thirst.

Blindsided by oblivion. Then end to something once beautiful and full. A marvel. Gone.

I continue to climb because it’s all I know. I refuse to be knocked down. I refuse to fall.