(no subject)
if i never again woke
in an early morning shower
if i lost all dignity
pride and power
if all music were
swallowed by darkness
if all light were
consumed by silence
if every natural disaster
descended collectively
with all these tragedies
it could not compare to
the desolate destruction
of you not with me.
........................
the night is crystal cold. the wet streets reflect night lights through the rain in an eerie scintillation. everything in this evening is alive, focused and defined.
i shut the first weather pane to hide behind the condensation. i closed the second pane, which has been painted upon with washable colors. in the warmth, in the candlelight and music, behind the foggy painted windows, in the darkness, my mind is blank and numb and stalled.
i don't wish to weep for the loss. i don't fear the future. i am not unhappy.
but more than anything, i'd love to disappear.
i'd want to spend hours upon magnificent hours, alone, making music that only god and i would ever hear.
i would curl up in bed and read until i could stay awake no longer and wake rejoicing with the sunshine. or wake to praise the snowy boughs of the tree outside my window. or wake to bathe in the showers of spring. or wake to challenge the energy of still green atmosphere, as the bully on the playground takes a breath before threatening annihilation. then i would dance in the sun or make a snow angel or sing in the shower or chase a tornado.
i would greet the sun's arrival as she awoke the depths of the lake and i would bid her farewell from atop a roof in the evening. between, i'd feel her close to me as she measured the hours upon the dial. although the distance between us would be great, her shadows would dance at my feet, and i wouldn't feel quite so lonely.
i'd basejump. go zorbing. scuba diving. hang gliding. i'd do all the things that cross my mind but never happen.
i'd capture the days in my own way, in word and picture.
i'd want to skate the entire city. memorize the streets. tell my secrets to every unnoticed corner. rejoice in the scenery, fall for the skyline all over again.
i'd want to have a cup of coffee with that tailor up the street who's worked there since the 50's. hear his story. see through his eyes for an afternoon. i'd want to take a beggar on the street to a lunch at a diner and in return, i'd want to hear how he got where he was. maybe i'd find him to have a better heart than myself. i'd want to get to know a great grandmother. i'd want to listen to a three year old. but also, i'd want to hear my story. because i'm the hardest of all to understand and i can be honest with everyone but me.
maybe tomorrow, i'll disappear. in your eyes, it'd be the death of me. for me, it would be liberty, and heaven.
in an early morning shower
if i lost all dignity
pride and power
if all music were
swallowed by darkness
if all light were
consumed by silence
if every natural disaster
descended collectively
with all these tragedies
it could not compare to
the desolate destruction
of you not with me.
........................
the night is crystal cold. the wet streets reflect night lights through the rain in an eerie scintillation. everything in this evening is alive, focused and defined.
i shut the first weather pane to hide behind the condensation. i closed the second pane, which has been painted upon with washable colors. in the warmth, in the candlelight and music, behind the foggy painted windows, in the darkness, my mind is blank and numb and stalled.
i don't wish to weep for the loss. i don't fear the future. i am not unhappy.
but more than anything, i'd love to disappear.
i'd want to spend hours upon magnificent hours, alone, making music that only god and i would ever hear.
i would curl up in bed and read until i could stay awake no longer and wake rejoicing with the sunshine. or wake to praise the snowy boughs of the tree outside my window. or wake to bathe in the showers of spring. or wake to challenge the energy of still green atmosphere, as the bully on the playground takes a breath before threatening annihilation. then i would dance in the sun or make a snow angel or sing in the shower or chase a tornado.
i would greet the sun's arrival as she awoke the depths of the lake and i would bid her farewell from atop a roof in the evening. between, i'd feel her close to me as she measured the hours upon the dial. although the distance between us would be great, her shadows would dance at my feet, and i wouldn't feel quite so lonely.
i'd basejump. go zorbing. scuba diving. hang gliding. i'd do all the things that cross my mind but never happen.
i'd capture the days in my own way, in word and picture.
i'd want to skate the entire city. memorize the streets. tell my secrets to every unnoticed corner. rejoice in the scenery, fall for the skyline all over again.
i'd want to have a cup of coffee with that tailor up the street who's worked there since the 50's. hear his story. see through his eyes for an afternoon. i'd want to take a beggar on the street to a lunch at a diner and in return, i'd want to hear how he got where he was. maybe i'd find him to have a better heart than myself. i'd want to get to know a great grandmother. i'd want to listen to a three year old. but also, i'd want to hear my story. because i'm the hardest of all to understand and i can be honest with everyone but me.
maybe tomorrow, i'll disappear. in your eyes, it'd be the death of me. for me, it would be liberty, and heaven.