On leave.....

A strange liberation in cutting off the strings slowly and making an exit.
Temoporarily.
Without joy.

But it was a moment where curtains were to be pulled open.
When shutters were to be closed tightly. And sunlight was to be pushed out of every molecule of air within.

You could laugh that there wasn't enough light in this musty corner to begin with.
You could point this isn't darkness.
This is pitch black.

But so what if it is so?

So what if I raise my arm and not have my own eyes be able to see it?

So what if this black darkness clings to my skin?
Long after the lights are turned back on.
Like burnt nylon that can only be separated with bidding farewell to a part of your body.

There was a passion which pushed my blood faster through the narrow vessels, squeezing past, shoving eagerly into my brain. Pushing for me to write.

A messy fight of hands moving in wild gestures.
Now it has broken up with me and left without a trace.
The numbers changed. Addresses moved.

My ex has expressed a desire to not know me again.
Maybe forever.

So let me collapse into a heap.
In this heavy velvet air.
Tense with empty strokes of hand.

A moment of silence.
To grieve.