Words are filling up my head.
Words are filling up my already too full head. It's usually full of thoughts, but since I don't think in words, this is too unusual. There are none of the usual pictures, flashes, memories, colors, moments. There are just words. Words like alone, breathless, and afraid. Words like year, and last and ending.
It wasn't supposed to be this way. None of it was supposed to be like this. I was prepared for hardship and I still am, and I know how it tastes, so that isn't the problem. The problem is that nothing is ending the way that it started, and this is the first time that's ever happened to me.
Tragedy seeps very naturally into the curve of my life, and being left alone and hurt and beaten is no stranger to me. It's only natural. But these words are not natural. Tragedy is a force, but right now there is simply a lack. A lack of what it was supposed to be, I saw it, in my head. I understand the way that life works and this isn't it.
These aren't thoughts, in my head, they are just words. Words are empty. Empty, that word in itself is a lack. My life, right now, is not wrought with sadness, or tragedy, or loneliness, as some might think. Or regret, as a specific few might like to believe. It's just lacking everything else. Lacking the natural course of life. Leave it to me to break the cycle, to rebel against a system I never wanted out of. Life is healing, life is rejuvenating, life is full of emptiness and sadness or of joy or of sunlight sitting on the rim of a wineglass. This isn't the way life is, life is supposed to follow a cycle.
What am I then, if not alive?
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