Oh how I miss the sweet nothings The effortless routine Kisses and hugs Unconditional mad love Bonded beyond the timeline of our souls And yet Wait This is not now. Not our lives. 3 years of bliss came and went And now And now I sit in dark In blunder Wondering wondering how I twisted our fate into a stupid mishap of this Oh how I miss the effortless love The sensation of belonging The warmth in my heart. It fled when you did and so I fled I fled for my heart could not be broken anymore And I think I've come out of the cold cob webs, the hole that I fell hard and deep inside. I think healing has come my hearts way and guided a light for me out of the rubble. I stand in the hole, hands grasping the edges, staring out. I do see you. I see us. What we were, what could be, maybe be. The hole was so dark and cold, nothing seemed right. Decisions were made in desperate grabs, dark thoughts overruled sense.
I let the dark drive my car. I sat in the passengers, crawled to the back and when the road dark drove me on looked distasteful, I pulled back the back seats and dove into the trunk, curled into a ball of the only true security one can provide oneself in this world. Warmth visited, laughter floated in and out, love whispered and left. A soft fluff rolled in and it was full of warmth and good. The more time the good spent with me, the warmer the trunk got, and so I curled and stretched. Ooohhhh my bones cracked in joy. To spread out in comfort and not be afraid, how unfamiliar and nice. But I was still in the trunk and so I waited for warmth, laughter and love to give me courage to leave the trunk. I pushed the seats outward and a cold breeze knocked in. I held fluff tight. The heat of the trunk lingered about my body and fluff while the rest that occupied the trunks empty space dissipated out into the car. I crawl out, push the seats back and sit the back seat, in awe of where I had been. Staring at dark, it's still driving, and with a cringing smile. Deep breaths and warm fluff sit next to me in the back. Flowers wave from outside the car, birds sing, dogs bark, rain pours, thunder rumbles, drunks scream, girls scream, I cringe. Dark smiles. I move to the passengers side, I hug fluff and I see dark, and dark sees me. Outside are people driving their own nice cars, on their way to their nice jobs, in love with their nice people. I see them and I see me. Drowsiness takes over and I nap. Dark is black and dusting his darkness around me. I don't care and so I sleep. I wake up and courage is in the back seat, sometimes with laughter and love, sometimes not. Dark sees them in the rear view, Dark laughs. A moment of time stopping slow, hearing slow, feeling odd. Is this how I want to drive my life? Where am I going? I study at the car locks, observe the cars details, ponder over dark's details. How do I move dark? How do I muster and pull and sustain the energy to move dark out of the car, into the streets, move myself into the drivers seat and drive while keeping the car from spinning out into an accident. How? And why? Why bother? What's the point? News and science say we're doomed, say history is to be repeated but worse. It's so effortless to let dark drive. To watch the world pass by as I lean my head against my cars seatbelt.
Oh dark, why choose a life without you?
Dark told me to push love out of the car. But first dark whispered into loves ear, whispered darker's voice and left cackling. It shocked love and love gripped to vices to try and stay with me in the car. Everyday dark pulled over, whispered into loves ear and looked next to it at me in the passengers seat. One day, Love crawled into the trunk and told me it was here for me. Time went on, and dark yelled at love from the front. Love could not be heard or seen. It was numbed by dark and consumed. Dark stared at me, whispered darker' voices into my ear. My heart compacted and I screamed for love, help me. Come out here, please. I clambered to the back seat, whipped back the seats and there, there was love frozen, stoned. No help to anyone. Love needed self love to heal. I looked down at my hands. Shaking from dark's careless whispers but not frozen. Dark looked at love and I through the rear view and laughed. He laughed and tossed its clouded black back into the back seat and cackled. I pulled the emergency trunk latch and pushed love out of the car. Dark stopped laughing, wafted itself to the drivers seat, and smiled.
Peering out of the trunk door, I could see the distance growing between love and I. It was sunny out, and I knew warmth would find love and help it heal. I closed the trunk door knowing love could not help me. Dark bought a knife, shook pill bottles, tossed me my cell phone with web pages pulled up of gun sales. And all at once, a friend lept through one of the the back windows. It saw dark, it saw me, it stayed. It brought warmth, courage, kindness, bravery, maturity, laughter and it brought anxiety, stress, anger and regret. Regret tugged at my shirt corner, stared up at me, at fluff, at friend, at dark, and at the trunk.
I stared at friend and felt thankful. I stared at the trunk and longed for love. I stared at dark and felt sick.
