Float On or The Tradegy
[a first draft]
keys hesitate in a stubborn lock, going in has never been easy. As the door knob turns my eyes overflow with tears that anticipate this old, empty, stale apartment.
Though I am greeted by life of the four legged kind my mind perceives the sheer blackness of a lonesome home waiting at the top of these stairs.
My legs work through the emotions and slowly ascend; with each step my heart drops lower and lower and lower and lower until I must drag it beneath me clanging like an anchor on the ocean floor.
These days the tears come easy, steadily, with or without reason. I am weak. No longer the strong man I have always pretended to be. Sometimes you can hear my screams three floors down for God to let me die, though I can not fall by my own hand.
Each day I awake; surprised to be living and breathing inside of these empty, hole-ridden walls. The neighbors here must now be used to this plea for death.
If only I could get her to see that I am the man for her. If once again I could hold her companionship in my arms as I lay kisses upon her body.
Though my heart still beats, I know that things inside have perspired, but when the funeral procession came rolling through, not one soul stood to grieve their passing.
The fear that clamps me into a tiny ball of flesh on the carpet is that never again will I be able to touch that which I love, never again to be close enough to smell her, never again to hold hands without clasping, never to whisper a thousand loves in a room of strangers, never again to kiss her very soul, never to see the universe so small in her eyes.
Oh my love, my heart, ma belle. If only in my memory, I shall grow old with you.