The loneliest place on Earth.
A gray and surreal pallor over everything.
Nothing is right. Everything is always… Off.
You live unable to put your finger on it.
*
Crippling, crushing void in your head that no one gets.
We press on.
We work through.
*
2012 led me to this place and the fight is good. Although, those blows landed by the Universe are good too.
Well placed punches leaving bruised and broken parts.
*
Sometimes.
Sometimes we can look back and see. See those walls going up. Brick by brick. Section by section.
See the armor being put on piece by piece.
*
But still…
The walls go up.
The windows get smaller.
Everything gets darker and darker…
*
Born.
I, wasn’t meant to be here. I almost died being born.
A child to a mother who wasn’t supposed to have children.
I almost killed her too.
And here I am.
A soul pulled through by the will of a woman no longer here to help guide it.
Like so many others who have loss. Lost.
*
We are never ready for this world. We come into it screaming.
Fighting.
*
When I look around I see a world that will go on without us. Without me.
Beautiful things that will still be beautiful long after I’m gone.
Humans who tolerate me.
Animals who will be lost and sad if I were gone.
I cannot remember the last time I had a hug. Real or otherwise.
Or someone to say not to worry.
Or that they loved me.
Death feels like it is lurking around every corner and there is, a lump in my throat.
And the sadness of Death.
The leaving of this beautiful world.
Alone.
Because we do go into that great Abyss alone. No matter who is in the room when we leave.
They are not coming with us.
*
Pressing On
*
This late in the game. This deep into the Void. Does Death matter anyways?
Beyond the terror of facing the unknown, how does it matter if no one cares?
If nothing has been accomplished?
I don’t know, but I assume it is that same nagging, unrelenting will to live that pulled me into this realm to begin with.
Fear of wasting the gift of life that my God blessed me with.
*
Even alone. A single tree in a massive field.
You stand. I stand.
We live anyways.
*
We wonder why.
*
Because someday it could get better.
Someday things might feel normal again.
And another page in God’s book could be yet to be written.
*
Sometimes.
We just have to make it through that dark and suffocating tunnel to emerge into the bright and blinding light of the Emergency Room.
We didn’t know the reason then. We don’t have to know it now.
*
Pick up the smiles, the dog licks. The odd and strange visitors human and otherwise. The cat purrs. The fish burbles. Fold clothes. Sweep the floors. Look for those little pieces of light. Pick them up, save them. Put them together and pile them up until a ladder is built over the wall.
Rescue something. A bug. A spider. A plant… Smile back. Compliment someone. Send a card…
Small somethings, until each piece of armor is slowly dropped behind us.
And the weight of it is no longer on our shoulders and back.
To stand straight again. And to breathe again.
Deep gulping breaths of cool and dewy air.
*
Our apocalypse’s are personal.
Some take longer than others to run their course.
*
Thank you Momma.
10/25/1956-04/16/2012