Zen Again
The moon is almost full. The air is crisp and cool. I get the feeling of nostalgia for the time of yester year. Pleasent memories of time spent with friends. A shadow from the moon is cast on my hand and I play with it and watch the blue tumble through my fingers and I smile because I have such a feeling of zen. Though it is brief and flys out the window with the smoke, I still felt it. The bass beats my heart and I let it drive the memories to my cavernous mind. I have been acting like such a machine these past few months. My movements have become almost mechanical. People ask and I give them a silver grin, it's what they want. You ask if I am ok and I say I will be. His hugs and kisses and I love yous are the only thing that makes everything worthwhile. But even those have stopped along time ago just like my smiles. No certain plans for this evening so I just drive till I feel what seems like forever. My destination uncertatin. I follow everyone else for the time being till I find my own niche. I can not bear the truth. I know what it is but I do not want to admit it. I want to think he can only bring me feelings of contiment and love. But like my actions and attitude it is only a facade. A way to keep it all at bay. I feel lonely all the time. My heart is worn out, my eyes to tired to cry anymore. I am in a strange place, the terrain may have become famailar, but the people are still foreign. I know I am not suppose to be here but I am helpless to change it. Everyone around me is naive to my true depression. I am too afraid to tell them of my desperate addiction. I am timid because if I let my demons be known to other that would mean I would have to come to reality with the acidic emotions coursing through my entire body. My little bit of stability would come crashing down. I remember the last time I was in a place like this. I was with him but I was not his. I did have a hold of his heart though. We sat side by side making smart remarks about our lack of game. Now the memory of that time confuses me and makes me unable to concentrate on the fun times that could be had. It is anger and hurt that messes me up. But with this pen I will bring closure to this, for now. No more anger, pain, confusion, or longing for the yester year. The moon hides just as I end this. It bades me to hide all of this, envelop it in a cloud of smoke. Maybe I will find my zen again. |
