It gets cold in here sometimes. My eyes
seek for some light, some warmth, some life. I wander over the
freezing surrounding and hold myself tight. Clutching my arms so
tight that it hurts. My feet are numb I can feel my head stiffen from
the cold around me. There’s nothing here no light, no life, no
hope.
“I want to leave this world for a
while”. Indeed. Tears dwelling in my eyes sweat gathering on my
upper lips I know it will be long before someone will hand me a
napkin. I use to like rain. Have you felt the rain lately the
raindrops feel so soft and fresh when they trickle down your forehead
and drop on your upper lip after trailing down your nose. Tear drops
don’t. They are trails of your defeat marked on your face while
your lips curl up as if begging for forgiveness. I often wonder if
this is what I chose or was it chosen for me, the darkness make me
feel like I am blind and a morbid dullness slowly fills the aura. A
strange chill fills the air before I curl up within myself waiting
for the cold to take over my body and lead me to my bitter end. Oh my
eyes wait the predicament. I can’t keep them open anymore the
heaviness from all the crying finally takes the toll I drift into
nothingness, a state of non existence.
They will forget all about me. I will subdue to
their past like a forgotten memory or a tear already soaked in the pillow.
What are memories but past left behind? Some day when my picture
falls down from an old album, my diary falls from the cupboard…
someone will shed a tear and will sigh my loss. When all of this
fades into a story once written with a pencil on the last page of a
diary, some corner will fold marking my imperfectness and I will be
nothing but a memory long forgotten, an incomplete song, a rose petal
snuggled into an old book covered with dust in the State Library…
