I find myself back amongst the flames; colours erupt from the inferno that surrounds me.
Deep blue moments of reflection arise.
A red raging passion consumes.
A lilac longing unravels.
Then comes black…
Black is the whirlwind; a turbulent affair between touch and time. A beautiful collection of fleeting moments which I hope are never retrieved for they have filled the forgotten void inside of me. They have become the kindling in my soul that keeps the burn alive.
A broken silence surrounds me; I can hear the sound of my breath as it toils within the confines of this thoracic cage.
As I stare into the hollowness of the cold and unforgiving abyss, I can feel the heaviness settle in again. The weight of the world has begun to nestle itself into the tender parts of my bleeding heart.
I have become a tear in a sea of swirling sorrow, a grain of sand in a desert of desolation, a shadow in the shade…
The night sky fills up with dark clouds as I colour my mind with thoughts of hate. They appear thick and full, but as my hand skims through them in search of something to fill the void, emptiness is all that can be found.
I long for rain, for a wreck… For anything to take away the pain of the black tar that lines my shallow breaths.
Cemented to the corner of my mood, I gaze into the sky above. The shining stars torment my eyes like the drag of jagged metal against my skin. The pain is too dense. Too full. Too deep. I pray that the tar within the core of me paves its way up and conceals the windows of my soul.