Pressing the up buttons, but I’m still going down. This elevator only seems to travel in one direction. I listen, as much as I’m able. I hear, but it’s all just whispers. Like leaves slowly budding on trees. It’s hard to tell what’s real in all this silence.
I wake up with tickles of confessions in the back of my throat. Wanting so much to follow my footprints back to the places where I’ve been. But I’m so warm under the covers. My tears soaking into the pillow. My heart still believing there will be a happy ending. White knights and sunsets and gallant steeds.
But this is not a fairy tale. My prince’s kiss will not wake me from my nightmare. My past and present conferring in secret meetings. Weighing all the options before making their decisions known. This prison called happiness. Like stairs with no steps yet still I try to climb. Because it’s not about what has happened. It’s about what never will.
Watching the cold wind carry it all away now. I have everything; I have nothing.
Monday, April 13, 2009
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