Slow Motion

I have no words left inside me and my head is drowning in a gallon of pulsating, boiling liquid of thick confusion.

My insides ache each second of every moment that is my life.

My eyes are heavy.

I rub them in comfort until my lashes drown my blurred vision.

My soul weeps.

Why do my feet feel so heavy?

I step in slow motion and I journey towards yesterday instead of tomorrow.

I am missing a piece of my mind.

I am missing a happiness.

I am missing warmth, like when you reach out at night, your skin kissing the cool cotton as your hand glides, until you are met with the breathing warmth of flesh – alive – there.

I am missing you.

Conjugated awareness lies to me.

It whispers untruths that I am surviving.

I pretend that I believe.

I know that my journey is long.

I am without substance.

I am alone.

I slowly realize I’m only a half of something greater than I.

I gave as a gift to you – unwillingly – a complete part of me.

Yet, without knowledge thereof.

I have felt its absence now.

I am sick with the emptiness it leaves behind.

Mostly, I am sad.

Everything is tasteless and black and white is my manipulated vision.

Yet, I know this is my journey and I walk forward into the darkness of my destiny.

But you must know that I walk wit the knowledge that I needn’t be afraid nor need I turn to look over my shoulder at who accompanies and protects me.

I feel you here, right behind me.

Your breath is warm and your color purple, bright, bold and ever present.

It’s your spirit that follows me.

It haunts me sweetly and I know it will never leave me, not till the day we pass the horizon of life and touch hands before the great one.

Till the day I am consumed by a greatness greater than what I though I knew when I knew you.