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Author Topic: we belong to the moon  (Read 1725 times)

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Offline sparrow

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we belong to the moon
« on: April 26, 2022, 11:46:36 PM »
I am so tired. Feel alone. Cannot describe the utter insanity of being here alone, day after day, night after night, stuck with only my thoughts for company. I am so sick of myself. For the first time in my life I feel the weight of a pointless life dragging everyone else down. The pond is dark and still before me with only a single leaf drifting on its surface. Sometimes an insect may land on it for temporary relief and I think to myself, even that leaf has purpose.



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Offline lexicon

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Re: we belong to the moon
« Reply #1 on: April 27, 2022, 09:32:45 AM »
Be it a rock, a raindrop or a fly on the surface of the water, the still pond still wrinkles.

Sometimes the purpose of Life is simply to live.





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Offline sparrow

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Re: we belong to the moon
« Reply #2 on: July 06, 2022, 10:21:29 PM »
I woke up when he kissed me goodbye, and for a long moment I laid there in bed, blinking away the last dregs of my dream. I had dreamed that I had needed help and kept calling for him but he ignored me and walked away. In the dream I was filled with anger, despair and a reckless desperation to both find him and forget about him. When I was fully awake I realized he had left a soft light on for me because he knows I have trouble sleeping alone in the dark. For some reason sadness filled me.

The apartment was quiet and still when I came out of the bedroom. The only noise was the distant hum of a neighbor's tv, the occasional cry of a baby. I turned on the tv for noise. Couldn't stand to be alone with my own thoughts. Didn't want to feel sad again. Sadness came anyway.

One thing at a time, is what I tell myself. Close the blinds. Turn on the lights. Make something to eat. Clean up. Don't think or feel. Or if feeling is still happening, let it pass. Dreams are just dreams. Thoughts are just thoughts. This will pass.



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Offline sparrow

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Re: we belong to the moon
« Reply #3 on: June 12, 2023, 01:00:41 AM »
I try not to remember
how you looked the
night we found you
or how you looked in my nightmares
or even when we laid you to rest
in the cold, wet ground.

Instead
I will think about you
the way my mom
saw you in her dream

Riding on a horse
turned away from her
heading swiftly
towards the horizon
not looking back,
never looking back.



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