In Days Like This

In days like this I am not present. In days like this everything is lost and there is no hope – no solace. These days bring loneliness and the flow of memories gushing through the walls of my heart, scratching all fibers, hurting each vein, scraping at everything it touches. The rush of pure pain that can only bring yet another pile of stones for a harsh and undeniable wall I seem to be building without my own consent.

Reminders of how happy life can be… come to the rescue of my own conniving mind and through the fortune of others. The gladness and love I feel for them only betray my own aching heart. The wonder of lost love and mistakes that only make me stronger and so much weaker all in one horrid unisonous chorus.

The smiles and love of dear ones that cannot decipher the enigma, another puncture to my stomach – acid pouring out. The investigative lines of questioning, the consolation that they bring, keepsakes for my soul’s treasure chest, relics for my Self destruction trunk. The engaging stares and enticing words of anima stimulus, a harmful deception I always longed to be lost in, never knowing the difference. Truth never left me! Blinding me until its grasp brought me to my darkest light.

In days like this I am not present. It is not I who reflects here – only the obscure sense of hopeful longing… the something and someone I once will see.