Category: Writing in the Dark

Writings for the darker days.

Dead Space

There is a room in my mind that has no windows or doors.

It has no color–walls stripped bare and blank and empty–

like a force of nature decided to strip a home of its humanity.

Life has left the hallways and spaces of this place.

There is no frame or shape that can explain the barren structure left behind.

It has no name.

It is the definition of  “nothing.”

Noise bounces off the foundation like a soundproof room, and leaves no trace of voice.

It is the little hell that keeps people from seeing God or faith in living things.

It is a piece of rotting wood, not good for anything.

This place in my mind–this deadened wood that has no purpose–

permeates my definition of life.

It reminds me of the pressing feeling that nothing lasts and everything fades to the past and pushes people back

until they can’t see color anymore.

It’s a black and white world.

 

Heavy Listening

Words are lost in translation and

my mind is a blur of yes and no and run,

but I wait for someone to step out of this blur

and say something that sounds like a warm greeting–

a hello from quiet mornings and coffee–

but my thoughts are too light for the harsh reality that claims my fate,

and I can’t run away

from a present perfect destruction that waits in the corners of every room–

every hidden space that makes a piece of the puzzle that was never meant to be there.

It was never meant to fit where

I wanted to place it.

I wasn’t meant for building concrete things.

I was meant for discreet passage ways

In tunnels that have no space for answers.

 

Sadness.

Sadness eats her weight in ice cream

And binges for hours on Gilmore Girls

Because she has no one to talk to about her feelings

Besides Microsoft Word.

She lies in bed awake for hours

Trying to find the will to move and do something

Other than thinking about how everything feels empty.

She drives late at night and listens to Little Chief,

Because she can’t take the silence.

She waits for something to change,

But can’t bring herself to change it.

Sadness needs a friend to wake her up in the morning

And drag her out of bed.

She needs someone to remind her that everything happens for a reason,

And she won’t feel this loss for forever.

She needs someone to bring her back to the present,

So she doesn’t remain stuck in the past.

She needs Joy.