2004-06-16
Until My Voice Cracks in Tears
Sometimes the heart aches at those fragile images of things that once had existence, or things that meant something.
If I could but articulate what I feel, and with a silver hand rip the feeling out of my soul and hand it to you in the form of quixotic words drenched in that fine wine of emotion. When I walk I still feel, and everything is sometimes so vivid, yet, it turns and suddenly becomes surreal as I struggle to stand in this tempest of nothingness and confusion.
It's like a wind ablaze with frost searing your skin, and memories seem to be the only things that haunt me. I feel something when I think of sunshine-filled days that are now lost and buried by the sands of time. Words said are now dry after their feeling has been lost, and I try to scramble out of this nightmare of placid ghosts that drift through me...through my blanketed soul of fire and ice.
I will forever be tormented by the eternal colors that dance and bloom inside this fragile heart,and yet, I still remember that time is but a stream I go a-fishing in...one cannot help but drink at it. Send me pain, regret, shame, and whisper how sad-romantic I am, or how hopeful or naive and I will agree with everything.
But those ghosts that wander aimlessly not permitting me any sort of sleep. I hum happy tunes until my voice cracks in tears.