From the corners in the crypts where darkened dreams grow
From the shadows of today that claw into tomorrow
In the nooks and crevices where the serpents of my mind
Writhe and slither, rustle, and reach out soft and slow
In shaking peripheries, the hauntings of each night
In endless searing glasses that serve no faith, respite,
Burning, burning, ice and fire, blurring out the world
Even drowning in the fumes will not lead to the light
I will never be happy, no, I will not find my peace
Trailing in hazy winter paths across the scattered greaves
Unheard, unsaid, the words I need to say, hiding inside
They flutter in my chest when I see you, like dying leaves
For the blackness has deepened, seeped into my soul
The screams and howlings echo, but they leave me cold
Without the sound of you, in this biting silence,
Without you, no, without you, I will never be whole….
No man is an island. Not one of us can claim to be an entirely independent entity, separate from the world around, from the people around us.
On the contrary, I’d say we’re more like jigsaw puzzles. Bits and pieces, corners and centers, colored in shades and images we draw from the people in our life. Some love, some laughter, some smiles, some frowns, and more, so many more colors, memories and pictures.
Some of these people we paint into our own life, marking them as one of our own. And some of these people paint themselves into our lives indelibly, taking a sharpie and writing their names across our universe. Marking our lives with their presence, for better or for worse, marking us as a part of them, and them as a part of us.
And then, there are others. The ones who say nothing, do nothing, leave no trace, even when you want to paint them into your existence. Without ever corporeally being there, they still make up more than half the picture in the jigsaw puzzle of you.
They make you, you.
What then, when you can’t find the words to make them stay?
What then, when you can’t define what you’ve only said unsaid?
What then, when you realize your picture is incomplete, and will remain so, unless you fit the right pieces in?
And what then, when the pieces you want won’t stay?
Questions, questions, questions.. They make for many a sleepless night…
Here’s hoping your’s have more pleasant dreams…
Moonchill and starlight,