Liquid Emotion Poured Onto Paper
The room is spinning, pressure forcing my neck to tighten as I swallow the lump in my throat. Tears prepare themselves to be set free as I gasp for air, desperately trying to figure out the problem.
I weep. I release. I let go. Today I realize that the emotions became too numerous for the box I was storing them in. And they overflowed.
I weep. I release. I let go. The pain, brought back by the little pleasant memories of my life, is almost too much to bear. I realize that I need help when I find comfort in remembering the horrible things that have happened to me. My subconscious turns against me and informs me that they were well deserved. That happiness was never within my grasp. The pain turns from emotional and spiritual to physical. My heart races to keep up with my soul, my muscles tense. I convulse. I vomit. My brain feels cold, but my feelings are thawing after a long long winter.
I weep, I realease. I let go. My body shakes, it hasn't experienced this amount of emotion for eons. I become weak and lightheaded, my body becomes numb. I don't feel myself falling, but I watch as objects on the ground become larger. Thud. I feel nothing. My mind is rushing through the happiness I once achieved and the memories that brought it. Freeze frames of my fondest, most painful moments to remember. Moments of pure bliss, raw ecstasy, untethered lust. 75 memories a second, and I feel my heart getting tired. It can't keep up with my mind any longer. Breathing gets shallower, but full lungs refuse to bring comfort. My body instinctively shuts my eyes out of fear.
Black. Silence.
Awake. I didn't pass out. Time had stopped. Angels, or some other unseen power had calmed my soul. I felt peace. Tranquil lapse in pain. I get back on my feet slowly and have to sit down. A voice tells me that my senses, my feelings have returned for a moment.
"I need help." I whisper to the world, but to no one.
Admission. Acceptance. Recovery. Already my heart is back to it's normal pattern. My mind is not collapsing. For the first time in eons, I feel my soul within me. And I feel relief. I stand with more conviction and plant my feet. The weight that I've grown accustomed to shifts on top of me, goes limp, and slithers off my neck. It melts past my broken, bruised, and battered heart. It passes through the ruins of a once great civilization, the torn and bombed out wrecks of proud buildings built as a monument to my self awareness, self esteem, self control. It drops to the floor, and suddenly I feel like I can fly.
I blink away the surviving tears. I wash away the footprints of emotion's watery footsoldiers. And for the first time since her, I walk free of the stormcloud to document the experience.
I love you all, no matter how well I know you, and I will thank whatever spiritual presence there is every day for having you in my life. Goodnight.
I weep. I release. I let go. Today I realize that the emotions became too numerous for the box I was storing them in. And they overflowed.
I weep. I release. I let go. The pain, brought back by the little pleasant memories of my life, is almost too much to bear. I realize that I need help when I find comfort in remembering the horrible things that have happened to me. My subconscious turns against me and informs me that they were well deserved. That happiness was never within my grasp. The pain turns from emotional and spiritual to physical. My heart races to keep up with my soul, my muscles tense. I convulse. I vomit. My brain feels cold, but my feelings are thawing after a long long winter.
I weep, I realease. I let go. My body shakes, it hasn't experienced this amount of emotion for eons. I become weak and lightheaded, my body becomes numb. I don't feel myself falling, but I watch as objects on the ground become larger. Thud. I feel nothing. My mind is rushing through the happiness I once achieved and the memories that brought it. Freeze frames of my fondest, most painful moments to remember. Moments of pure bliss, raw ecstasy, untethered lust. 75 memories a second, and I feel my heart getting tired. It can't keep up with my mind any longer. Breathing gets shallower, but full lungs refuse to bring comfort. My body instinctively shuts my eyes out of fear.
Black. Silence.
Awake. I didn't pass out. Time had stopped. Angels, or some other unseen power had calmed my soul. I felt peace. Tranquil lapse in pain. I get back on my feet slowly and have to sit down. A voice tells me that my senses, my feelings have returned for a moment.
"I need help." I whisper to the world, but to no one.
Admission. Acceptance. Recovery. Already my heart is back to it's normal pattern. My mind is not collapsing. For the first time in eons, I feel my soul within me. And I feel relief. I stand with more conviction and plant my feet. The weight that I've grown accustomed to shifts on top of me, goes limp, and slithers off my neck. It melts past my broken, bruised, and battered heart. It passes through the ruins of a once great civilization, the torn and bombed out wrecks of proud buildings built as a monument to my self awareness, self esteem, self control. It drops to the floor, and suddenly I feel like I can fly.
I blink away the surviving tears. I wash away the footprints of emotion's watery footsoldiers. And for the first time since her, I walk free of the stormcloud to document the experience.
I love you all, no matter how well I know you, and I will thank whatever spiritual presence there is every day for having you in my life. Goodnight.