LOSTROVER

His stature remained erect and he had a lively attitude that could spark anyone’s interest. Inside, his head was running wild like a tiger chasing its prey in the desolate safari. Within his cranium, he longed to be a free spirit and enjoy his life- to be selfish and stop pleasing others. His transparent reflection stared back, mirroring an intense feeling of familiarity. All he could pour out,  was a four word statement  TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF

Music blasting in these wrecked eardrums zapping the pain that once stood on his surface. He stood. He fucking stood, trenched up to his knees, boiling down to his worse nightmare. He stood there. His pain was real. Everything was real. But he stayed and fought. FUCK YEAH HE FUCKING stayed.

The sounds of dragonflies radiate through her eardrums as they dance ever so quietly around her still body.

I’m sorry for your feelings and the way you’ve been hurt. I’m sorry for your sorrows and all of your mournings. I’m sorry for your relationships and the fights they hold. I’m sorry for your anger that you so deeply hold. Your wrath and envy tear you apart, I hope you realize you're falling apart.

My deepest condolences. I’m sorry for your loss. He, was a great man… A lump in the back of my throat, like I just swallowed 10 big stones. My heart melted into my stomach and my mind covered in a white sheet, that felt tastefully familiar. My words forming on autopilot without recognizing the faces nor aromas, just little conversations of “How are you doing? I managed to play on repeat; even dancing, when the chorus came on. Eerily awaiting, until the  music faded to its end.

My heart racing through this violent and stormy night. My mind running wild like a ping pong match that doesn't seem to end. These pondering questions lingering, waiting to be pushed out of these pursed lips that have been sewn shut. This guilt eating my inner soul as each waking day passes ripping the insides of my heart into tiny little pieces. Your harsh words and your silent thoughts have shattered me into more than you could ever imagine. And yet, I'm the one that aches.

I need your story. I want to pick you up and read every page. And then reread it, analyzing every sentence, delving myself into every word, examining every line. And when I’m done, our book will be so much better.

Life is good life is sweet, life is truly a sinful treat.

He stood there resiliently, in the deep trenches filled with water, that succumbed  into an inevitable void. His gaping presence-  an anomaly, similar to his life of enigmatic paths waiting to be discovered. Choose wisely, his thoughts hollowed.

Doers will dwell time will tell, what has yet to come will dance upon amidst to some.