It’s all darkness. I can’t see beyond the darkness. It’s a charcoal cloak enveloping me In the middle of summer. All I can smell is the clean summer air And I am angry. I can smell it, but I can’t see it. And I can’t feel it. I sit in the anger Because it is all I can feel. Sadness will come when the anger leaves. So I sit in the anger. Night descends But the smell is still there And I cannot detect the change. I feel sadness in the anger. The fight leaves my body. The anger is gone. But so is the will, the life, the smell. I close my eyes. And now I can float. I float in the darkness. I feel the arms of abandon enfold me. I let it suck me in. We became friends. Years ago, the darkness and I. Comfort in the harshness of grief and sharpness of pain. I don’t have to be. I hear them calling. Through the darkness, through the cloak. They call themselves life, and I shut my eyes and sleep. Sweet obliterating sleep.
Leave a comment