I don’t believe in reality. It slips through my fingers too easily. Gossamer dreams caressing my skin and whispering across my body. The here and now is tenuous to me. Life is a distant thing. Feelings blare too loud, so I know I’m real, but lack awareness as to what they are saying. Should I run away, stay still, make sense of things?
When I can, it’s a good day.
Maybe I’m being overdramatic. I don’t believe myself anyway. But sometimes, when I let myself write, reality touches my lips. A peck of understanding, a kiss of relief.
Today’s a bit better at least. I’ve stopped running. My legs still itch to go, my hands reach for my keys. Let’s go anywhere, an adventure, push off the issues clutching my neck for another day. Oh, but it’s closing in. Life doesn’t wait for you to stop having problems.
It doesn’t wait.
And every day I don’t do the things I love, the more I look into the depths. I see darkness and think the abyss offers peace.
But no. No, it doesn’t. If you think it does. Fight it. Fight it with me.
I’m here, I’ll hold your hand, and together we’ll turn away.
I love to be positive, to offer cheerful comments, and brighten someone’s day.
But I can’t do that today.
All I can do is to offer to hold you against the wind of the tempest breaking down our walls. I’ll cradle you and you can hug me and together we will find the light of another day.