Fracture
It’s been a while since I wrote anything that meant something. Not to say that what I’ve been writing lately has been meaningless. In all honesty, I haven’t been writing much at all. I remember when I’d write every single day. There was inspiration in everything. I’d see something sweet, like kids climbing trees, or a couple just... looking at each other. I’d see that and a lovely little string of words would come together in my head and I’d need to get them out. I’d witness something terrible, like a kitten on the side of the road, or a fire on TV, and the sorrow would weigh on my heart and I could feel the words forming on my tongue. I’d wake in the night from a dream or a terror and I’d scribble it on the notepad I kept by my bed. I lost that book. Must’ve fallen off and got swept under the rug.
There’s so much... life, so much death, so much smiling and sobbing and sleepless nights and kids growing older and I don’t feel inspired by any of it. Something happened to me this year. Something happened. I don’t know when or what or who it was but... but that something, that someone... they really screwed me up. They got such a hold on me that they made me turn away from myself. Writing is who I am and... and I just... stopped. I just cut myself to pieces and left all of the parts that matter in the corner of my room, behind all of the books I bought but never read. I feel like... these past few months, I’ve been walking around, a ghost, a weird shadow of whoever I am... whoever I was. I feel like... sometime in the past twelve months... Caroline died. And I know that’s morbid but I can’t explain it otherwise.
Maybe she didn’t die... maybe she just got lost. Or maybe she’s just sleeping. I’ve been so tired lately. Or maybe... maybe she’s just... waiting. Waiting for... that something, that someone, that moment that will just breathe life into this fading girl. Because she’s fading fast, and I know they say not to go towards the light, but I’m so tired of being in the dark. It’s cold in the dark.
I’m
so
cold.
There’s so much... life, so much death, so much smiling and sobbing and sleepless nights and kids growing older and I don’t feel inspired by any of it. Something happened to me this year. Something happened. I don’t know when or what or who it was but... but that something, that someone... they really screwed me up. They got such a hold on me that they made me turn away from myself. Writing is who I am and... and I just... stopped. I just cut myself to pieces and left all of the parts that matter in the corner of my room, behind all of the books I bought but never read. I feel like... these past few months, I’ve been walking around, a ghost, a weird shadow of whoever I am... whoever I was. I feel like... sometime in the past twelve months... Caroline died. And I know that’s morbid but I can’t explain it otherwise.
Maybe she didn’t die... maybe she just got lost. Or maybe she’s just sleeping. I’ve been so tired lately. Or maybe... maybe she’s just... waiting. Waiting for... that something, that someone, that moment that will just breathe life into this fading girl. Because she’s fading fast, and I know they say not to go towards the light, but I’m so tired of being in the dark. It’s cold in the dark.
I’m
so
cold.