You are my phantom limb.
You're there in an awkward limbo, a not-quite-memory. I wish I wasn't too weak to help. Nowadays my life is disconcertingly simple. I can't get used to it. The simplicity is so complicated, so confusing that I can't comprehend it. My brain is subconsciously searching for faults, grown accustomed to cracked sidewalks and leaky faucets. Finding none, I almost feel empty. I feel there is something missing, but it's probably for the best.
I'm still keeping my secrets, the way I always do, only for the sake the of safety in routine. They've decreased in size, in importance, mere flesh wounds, nothing fatal that would fester the tissues of my mind. My mind is less cluttered, more emotionally sound than it's ever been. I feel I have been healed of these wounds of the past, but the scars remain, sometimes they itch, just begging for me to reopen them. Bring the memories back.
What happened happened and couldn't have happened any other way.
It's like looking at the sun for too long. It's imprinted on your eyelids, burnt into your retina long after the fact. It will fade only with time. As does everything. I'm afraid of the sun. I've been blinded by it's glare. I long for a cool calm night, with the moon to bathe me in silver dipped stars so I can finally be whole again.
You're there in an awkward limbo, a not-quite-memory. I wish I wasn't too weak to help. Nowadays my life is disconcertingly simple. I can't get used to it. The simplicity is so complicated, so confusing that I can't comprehend it. My brain is subconsciously searching for faults, grown accustomed to cracked sidewalks and leaky faucets. Finding none, I almost feel empty. I feel there is something missing, but it's probably for the best.
I'm still keeping my secrets, the way I always do, only for the sake the of safety in routine. They've decreased in size, in importance, mere flesh wounds, nothing fatal that would fester the tissues of my mind. My mind is less cluttered, more emotionally sound than it's ever been. I feel I have been healed of these wounds of the past, but the scars remain, sometimes they itch, just begging for me to reopen them. Bring the memories back.
What happened happened and couldn't have happened any other way.
It's like looking at the sun for too long. It's imprinted on your eyelids, burnt into your retina long after the fact. It will fade only with time. As does everything. I'm afraid of the sun. I've been blinded by it's glare. I long for a cool calm night, with the moon to bathe me in silver dipped stars so I can finally be whole again.
Comments