indodreamer

A young boy's life has ended. I never formally met him or knew him at all. I never will. And I'm on the outside, watching my friends take on the this horrific pain of losing a team mate. A friend. The girl who always secretly cared deeply for him but remained a silent friend. She never had a chance to say I love you or even goodbye. The mother who has just had her baby boy stripped from her, who will never get over this pain. The most she can do is cope. All of the people who got the phone call last night that every person dreads. A tightly knit tapestry of people and relationships, and one of the threads has been severed. So easily

In the shadow of the fallen The light of the parched weeds alone I am. Those whispering doubts. Inconsequential. Irrelevant. Unbecoming. They lick flames behind the ego Scorching slow and light They yell They scream They leap forward to cling to my ankles With iron grasps and thorny nails To pull me back again. Empty smiles carved of lies Hollow words of comfort Bounce off stone pillars and heed no sand To wash the grime away. Yet cease the rain the storm the snow From unyielding gravel And smoothened not. Cleansed yet not. A youthful, weak, and sodden thing To pull me back again. And in the trees does nothing stir Nor

Run until your throat is tight from a lack of oxygen, not emotion. Run until your mind and lungs are emptied of air. Run until the hollow emptiness inside is replaced by knives running along your ribs. Run until your legs buckle. And your knees hit the ground. And you succumb to nature. And let the rain wash away the perpetual tears             The perpetual fears                              The eternal lust for compassion. Run until you ache all over but have left yourself behind. Run until the world has no meaning. And that's fine. Run past reality, outstrip life, surpass humanity. Run until you can't run anymore.