I can not wake, I can not sleep.
This heart is heavy, I am weak.
My eyes don’t see, They only weep. My love is gone, And hope I seek.
What is this path you’ve given me?
Where brothers die and lovers flee?
The me inside has but one key,
And now I’m locked in misery.
I heard her pain as she cried out, Her heart was broken in her shout. I’ll take that with me ‘till I die. As well as our last kiss goodbye.
I held her hand and made her mine, Each day her eyes would light the sky. My heart I handed in a box, Without the thought that I’d be lost.
I’m drowning down in all my pain, Fragmented self is barely sane. A broken man, I am again, Cold, alone, in the rain.
I heard your song, it broke me down. My tears were falling to the ground. Have mercy on this sinners heart I need your love, I’m torn apart.
I know you put her in my sight,
To show me love and end the night. But, now I’m here and no one knows,
Who I am, my inner woe.
Yet, I don’t care for happy days, Just for her, to keep her safe. I do not care if I decay, Just be with her, that’s what I pray.
A dead tree alone in a dessert. Burnt, it’s branches claw at the sky. Slowly, the scene tilts. The sky now below, the dessert above. The tree hangs like a gothic chandelier.
The man holds tight, but his grip is failing. White knuckled on the branches as he slides closer and closer to the sky below. Just let go!
The tree begins to bleed. The dark blood rains down on the man. He has no hope. He has nothing.
A soft surface. Yet, not a landing… He slides gracefully down for miles on a deep red satin dress. The satin wraps him up. It belongs to a beautiful woman. She cradles the man and hums a lullaby.
A nice lullaby.
A haunting lullaby.
A grotesque song.
Nobody wants you!
The satin melts away into an ocean. A rough sea that throws the man under the surface. The liquid fills his lungs. He can’t breathe.
He falls out from tears that flow from his wife’s eyes as she stares at a tree. A tree that’s been in their yard since they first moved in. Everything is silent. Everything except the tight sound of a rope.
He stands and looks up at the lifeless body. It’s him.
His tortured soul watches his painless body being carried down by his broken wife.
His eyes open and he wakes up in a pool of sweat.
He rolls over and places a soft kiss on back of his wife’s shoulder.
I hate it when guests linger around. They can’t take a hint. Normally, I’d stand up slowly and take our coffee mugs to the sink, or I’d stretch out my arms and say, “Well, it was so good seeing you!” But, this time I can’t. My guest is still here.
My guest keeps saying the same thing, but I can’t here it’s voice. It whispers, “Remember.” My uninvited guest is the byproduct my life circumstances that I, clearly, couldn’t handle the way my brain wanted me to.
My logical mind talked calmly to me (‘me’ being somewhere other than in the physical realm). He told me it was going to be fine. “These things happen”, “It’ll all make sense one day” and “You just have to get on with it”, all sound like terrific little phrases to repeat. Yet, my guest remains inside ‘me’.
I purge my room. Everything that reminds me is stored away, but it’s voice grows louder still.
I clean my entire house and delete every photo from my phone.
I break. My guest forces my hand. It kicks my legs out from under me and I fall to my hands and knees. Tears burst out to the sound of a broken cry. How warm they are leaking through eyes clenched shut.
Hollow and alone, my guest finally leaves. I finally feel relief! They are gone!
Feeling better, I take a bath. It’s just what I needed. There is nothing more relaxing than drinking the cold tap water while lying in a boiling hot bath. As the water drains I wipe the fog from the mirror. A small smile curves. It’s been a long time since I felt the muscles around my mouth go through so much work.
As I walk downstairs to get a glass of water, I feel something in the corner of my being whisper. Now I know.
I’m desperate and alone! What beauty there was when we collided, but now I lay staring at the celling. Staring into nothingness.
Pick me up! Let us play and sing!
You don’t know what it’s like, do you dear reader? It’s horrible! For happiness to be completely dependent on an entity separate from ourselves is torture. I was built to transform emotion into music, yet on my own I’m nothing. I’m a tool; rusting in the corner of an old garage.
A strange thing, isn’t it? To have emotion and not be able to express it. I’m literally an outlet with no outlet! I crave to be whole! To be with someone who has the human luxury of being able to express emotion! What a blessing that is!
I despair, and I hope for hope. For what beautiful music we made together! You must understand on some level, for you turned me into a metaphor. When you feel emotional about a movie you say, ‘That really struck a chord with me.’ Well, let me tell you that you have no idea! You have no idea what it’s like to have that emotion as the basis of your entire existence.
Strike a chord with me. It’s been too long. I need you. I’m alone. My strings are loosening and i’m gathering dust.
Dependence. What pain.
When my love returns, I will be free again. Free to feel what I was created to feel. Love.
Ahh, humans. Humans who love in freedom but create their own internal prisons. You don’t know what you have. I have to confess, I enjoy the depression you feel, because you come to me more often. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure I make you feel better in some small way.
So I’ll sit here and wait until the earth stops spinning. I’ll wait because I’m grateful for the chords you strike with me. Even though sound itself exists only as it passes out of existence, it’s still worth the wait.
Life is short. Don’t let love grow stale and dry. Don’t put love down like me, an old guitar that’s lost its warm tone. Don’t let it’s voice be silenced. Look up! Look up to the sky and scream!