Resembling a woman with loose change spent thinking about forever, the seconds and moments caught in complex spider webs, unable to be deconstructed. I could feel the feeling drift, often away to more fantastical histories full of moon-lit women cascading upon deep seas drenched with the sorrows of their fathers’ men, men who thought they could be God and reminded their lovers with each stroke. Maybe she was God or maybe she was just a woman. Either way, both, to her, were indispensible and incomprehensible futures she felt she knew nothing of.
“Do you ever wonder about what it must take to make the sun cry? Or is it that she weeps endlessly, with tears extinguished through her own ignition? What a lonely existence. To be the sun and nothing else, to be the sun with nothing else.”
It seemed to conquer her, her loathe for loneliness, thriving off of the mockery in her existence. Most of daylight was spent cracking the bones and stifling the breaths of solitude, thrashing about in passing mirrors until her reflections began to grow weary of such a sad woman’s face, leaving her lost in a self-contained rapture.
“Sometimes, but, I don’t know. Sometimes I just feel like maybe we’re not supposed to be thinking that far into space, like, like there must be a point where you’ve gone too far, too far to turn back and then you’re just caught. Caught in the middle of your own mind and millions of other other minds who walked past the caution sign, thinking they were invincible. So many lost souls, lost souls, gone forever and ever.”
Most nights, I’d rather spend just laying with her. As if it were the summertime and we lived with cinematic tendencies, wandering into fields of wispy dreams, daisies crushing under our feet, as our souls bloom into each other. Growing, loving, growing, loving, constantly.
Still, I do wish things were different. I’m not sure if life is supposed to be this hard, the constant evolution and I can no longer keep up. And we’re always running. After each other, towards each other, away from each other, into each other. Just always running. And my hair won’t blow in the wind and carry me away to some far off land, one where it's no longer about surviving, just breathing.
Inhale….
Exhale
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