Just me.

Just Jerry is fine. 30. I write things.

[justjerryyy]

I don't think I was meant to, in this life.

[justjerryyy]

Everyday was a new chance. Today was no different.

The boy sat on the bench, umbrella in hand, shielding himself from the onslaught from above. Raindrops were leaking through the openings in the ceiling. Dripping on the platform, they added sound to this hollowed space. The sound of droplets hitting concrete in sharp, simultaneous echoes. The tracks were wet. The sun was gone. He was the only one waiting for the train.

The station had long been abandoned. Unused, empty, and decrepit, the structure had been falling apart for quite some time now. All that remained was left to crumble under the weight of a glory long gone. He came here to think. He came here to get away. Waiting--hoping--that one day the train might arrive. That one day he would board, take a seat by a window, and enjoy a hot meal on his way to a place far away.

But the day would not come.

I don't even know what I'm waiting for anymore

[justjerryyy]

Typical

Totality

Fearsome

Fallacy

Many phrases unhindered

Meaning now left withered

Such menial loss

Structure now falls

When did the thought arise?

Why, betrayed by blinded eyes?

I miss the sound, the touch, the sensation

If only imagination could harbor creation

And yet

[justjerryyy]

You can have someone see you and not know anything about you. But you can't have them read what you wrote and not see who you are.

[justjerryyy]

He loved this song. It reminded him of home.

The young man stared at the ceiling while he lay on the ground. Music was being carried into his room from somewhere. His window was cracked slightly and the sounds of summer wafted in from the outside--a light, warm breeze followed. It was midday. Plenty of light beamed in through the paned glass panel and the gentle touch of sunshine comforted the man. It really was like he was home.

There was a knock on the door, "lunch," said a disgruntled voice. The food slot opened at the bottom and a tray slid through. The man sat up.

It was time to come back to reality.

The man picked at his tray,

"I hate brussel sprouts"

[justjerryyy]

It's what you do with the truth that decides if you'll remain a prisoner.

And I choose freedom

Fuck your bliss

[justjerryyy]

The truth doesn't set you free.

It only makes the lie you live worse.

Ignorance is bliss

[justjerryyy]

Part 11

She crashed through the surface. Pushing small chunks of ice flotsam out of her way, she hoisted herself up onto the solid sheet. Deep breath. The sting of winter caressed her throat. It was sunset. She looked across the surface and saw the powder, white bank--it wasn't that far. She needed to get off this ice. She started to crawl.

Not yet.

The girl collapsed onto the harsh earth. She turned on her back and gazed through the skeletons of the tree branches above her. It had begun to snow. The tiny flurries reflected gleams of light. Shining crystals that swirled and danced their way to the floor, bringing secrets with them from the skies above. She wondered what they knew. Her body was numb but she could feel the cold. She could feel everything. She felt her breathing. She swallowed every needle as the frosted air slowly entered her lungs. She began to shake. What was going to happen? Her friends. Her family. What would they think when they found out what happened? She began to shake harder. Losing control of herself, her body was betraying her. A tear slid down the side of her face. She gazed at the retreating rays of warm sunlight. Abandoned by their heat, she felt a new source of comfort. Her pain subsided. Her breathing had calmed. A warm sensation filled her body. She closed her eyes.

Dusk had settled. Two flashlights sliced through its shadows.

"What if we don't find her?"

"We will... we have to"

[justjerryyy]

Part 1

She opened her eyes. She was wading in clear waters. The golden rays of white sunlight filtered down from above, illuminating the space around her. She looked up. There was a hole in the ice--still fresh. She could see a crimson patch on a corner, it bled into a trail that whisped downward. She looked below. There was a girl. Her long, dark hair flowed through the deep as her body drifted further and further beneath the water.

That girl was her. And she was dying.

The girl's eyes shot open. A numbing cold overcame her body. She felt weak and weighted but her mind was as alert as ever. Her feet had touched the bottom of the lake. The heavy skates squeezing against her ankles. Carefully, she bent her knees and positioned her feet. Using whatever force she had left she pushed against the lakebed and forced herself upwards; cutting through the water. She stroked her arms and paddled her legs furiously, building speed from the momentum and lifting herself higher and higher. Her breath was short. She had run out of oxygen and started to exhale the remainder, slowly, hanging on to every last molecule of air. Desperately, she gave all she had and all she could.

Please...

[justjerryyy]

little Rabbit

what chance? what wistful thought; to have had a chance. across the way, a cross, You lay. will I meet You again someday? delusions We carry, how whole do they engulf? what pain to know such bliss Myself.

set in it's path was the monster You met. who would move for one so delicate? I pity You. I pity Me. What curse to behold this sight I see. I know it was right, the act was done logically. for You, My Friend, a heartfelt tragedy.

what awaits You, I wonder, beyond this existence? for Me, the power to paint My deliverance. through judgement I am safe, I continue My path. for You--the only option--You had to run fast.

there is no pain in logic unless you're the Rabbit

[justjerryyy]

There is no pain in logic.

[justjerryyy]

Rain

on crisp ground. bittersweet cold. draw of empty breath calls

Night

so silent. austere indifference; refined. significant

Unkown

intent. unshakeable, unbreakable.

Alone

[justjerryyy]

The time was perfectly temperate now.

Warmth had settled. In this familiar place, previously rigid, blossoms and blooms of  brilliance overtook the uninviting rush of a winter's cold gaze. Fair weather was abound, whirling in a dangerous mixture of comfort and compassion. A lukewarm breeze now filled the air.

The two sat in silence.

Sounds of streams sang and chirps of chickadees cascaded the world behind them, beckoning them to listen. They came to have a picnic. They came to try again. But in this space so whole they found themselves in pieces. Winter was still alive. But it only lived on in the space between them.

The time was perfectly temperate now. But their time had finished long before the cold weather

[justjerryyy]

She was alone. Stillness drew out her breath as a careful whisp. There were no lights. No sounds. No implications that life existed beyond these walls. This was a prison. This was her prison. She shuttered. The echoed thoughts of a lonely world freezing her to her core. She couldn't understand. She couldn't understand why they never stayed. Alone in the confines of her own room, the night and sorrows had warped her comfortable quarters into a space of silent torment. This space was her prison, but she was the only one keeping her there.

And in that space, so still, "what's wrong with me," was all she could think

[justjerryyy]

Sometimes remembering is the best way to forget

[justjerryyy]

I still can't sleep. The only difference, now, is you're not here to keep me company

[justjerryyy]

Heartache is never fair. Someone always ends up on top, holding all the answers, while the other is left scrambling for any sense of normality they can latch onto. Sometimes they grasp desperately at hope--the feeble strands of what remains after a ravage by the force that tore it to shreds. Other times they find it within themselves to settle. For a lie--A plausible truth. For anything that can help them move on yet somehow leave them trapped, stagnantly dumbfounded, forced to wonder what happened. It's a cruel kind of purgatory.

And I'm caught somewhere in between this in-between.