A morning breeze knocked and entered, same old, same old.

I decided shutting my eyes again, same old, same old.

Replenished senses, discontented feeling, frustrated perceptions.

My eyes all loose, keeping it shut had ceased.

My body motion etched with scripted progress.

Same old, same old habits telling me,

I don’t even live a life at all.

Same old, same old routines making white noises,

As if it was a natural questioning babel murmuring that —

I had such a futile hollow existence.

All I just do and only took was a strained sigh,

I wonder if breathing is some tool that I still own,

was it a tool?

I suppose, seeking a reply from it,

was similar to taking a branch from a tree.

I was gone from being static —

when I felt the warm forenoon sun drawing on my figure,

through the sheer curtain that veils the window.

steeply evoking and inscribing marks of my own stale nature.

Worn pile of garments and crumpled papers —

scattered around me, as if it took a slumber with me.

I took the towel from the headboard —

shooting for the waters,

I wandered off over these shabby duvets scattered on the ground.

It was a long, lazy shower I wanted —

where I was all bare with my mediocre body and thoughts,

touching everything of it with the rushing waters and my palms.

It was a long, lazy shower I wanted —

that might stroke my mind, caress my soul, and fondle my heart.

but it turned out the contrary.

It was a long, hysteric shower,

I whimpered in desolation,

moaned from a sensual sensation,

then I sobbed, weeping in frustration of knowing —

I attempted to swallow myself in oblivion,

when I’ll never even get a taste of it, only to choke in despair.

A charcoal heart

in a pitch black lane

closing in

on the embers

of the soul

flame turned up

to white hot heat

melting through

dissolving willpower

thawing heart

ruptured

soul.

seconds pass by

turning to minutes

each moving on to hours

then a full day

weeks gradually fly by

which bring on a new month.

oh my goodness!

time sure does go by so fast,

but with every time that passes

i miss you—

so much that I wish I could

just snap my fingers and you’d be

right here by my side-

and If i were to say by how much

you are missed

I think it would be greater than

500 times any number

a positive number/digit

and count that point on

till the next number aft’r that &

then the one after that one ‘n’ so...

you’ll see how

great You’re~

missed..

#500.

Hollow, metallic, robotic

I’m not me

I watch myself do everything I would if I were me

but I’m not me

I’m just a spectator

Emotionless, it’s hard to care what happens to me

I can feel things but it doesn’t seem quite real

Every moment seems so slow, but I blink and two weeks are gone

Where am I going?

Every time I slip away it’s harder to come back

It’s more difficult to tell if I’m back

I’m not me anymore, I’ve changed

I’m empty

The thoughts reverberate in my mind

Empty of all else, they grow

Taking root, they blossom

To the point where I don’t want to eat

I can’t sleep

Everything seems pointless

I’m not me but if I was, I’d be sobbing

I’d be hiding from the monster I’m watching right now

The one who’s typing out these words

There she was.

And there he was.

Like a brilliant flame, she glowed and crackled.

Like a dark ice cold sentry, he watched and waited, glittering pure .

They’d never known each other.

Never seen one like the other before.

And like moths to flame they were drawn to each other.

Bewitched.

Enchanted.

Taken in by the others’ strange beauty.

When they touched he burned and she shivered.

When they kissed his lips melted and hers froze.

When they embraced and became one he burst into a myraid of white hot flames while she a slurry of sparkling, glittering icicles.

When they parted, they felt the others’ absence like a painful hollow deep in the pits of their chests.

They ached.

They hurt.

They missed.

And yearned.

They hated and feared.

They loved and loved and loved and loved until their chests felt ready to burst.

The sun.

The moon.

Two beings struggling to stay together.

Two beings forced apart.

Only once a few years can they truly be together.

Only once a few years do they meet for the first time.

As with every rise and fall of the other, they are born anew.

"Why do you stay here?" the Moon asked the Sun. The Sun almost laughed hearing the question.

"Why? The people down below are the people that I give light. They look up to me, day and night, to keep them alive, away from fright." The Sun could see the Moon's dissatisfaction in the answer. "This is my calling, the one that I follow. I believe this is where I am supposed to be, to help these people live happily. Hopefully, one day you'll see, you'll see the people that I love, oh so dearly.

"But again I'll ask why do you care? Just let these people do what they dare. I find that mighty unfair, come fly with me away into the air." The Moon begged the Sun.

"I'm going to stay, until the day I turn grey. Sunday till Saturday. This is my only way." The Sun replied.

"Your way is not mine. You want to stay? Fine. But now is when I draw the line, today I have grown a spine." The Moon shot back.

"But you must stay with me. These people, they love you like family," begged the Sun.

"No, I'll dance among the stars. Maybe even with Venus and Mars."

"No, you have to shine. These people, without you, will decline."

"Let them for all I care. I, unlike you, will let them do as they dare." The Moon flew off into the night. Leaving the Sun and the people it watched behind. Leaving it's entire world to see what's beyond.

"I'm finally gone, I've become a new spawn. I will go on, and on, and on, until I no longer feel as if I'm a pawn." And so the Moon did. Off he flew beyond the Solar System. Far into space. He set off to the stars, the stars he always watched. The stars he always glanced. The stars that always danced.

The stars he finally met. They all seemed so cheerful and happy. All dancing wihout a care, why wouldn't they? And so the Moon did too. For months at a time he'd dance and dance. Never stopping. Never caring. Then one day the Moon asked, "We should do something new. Should we watch someone paddle a canoe? Maybe see someone trip on a shoe? Surely, we can see those trapped in the zoo!"

"We don't do that here. I'm sorry if that was unclear," replied one of the stars. The Moon remembered that there is only one Earth, one planet with human life. The Moon soon began to dance again, for months at a time. Never stopping. Never caring. But the Moon soon began to grow tired of dancing. For what were they dancing? For what purpose?

For what meaning? The Moon began to see the people as the Sun did. The Moon began to want to help the people as the Sun did.

"I must go fellow stars. I must go mend my scars," the Moon announced.

"Back to your Earth? Why do you lower your worth?" the stars asked.

"You see, they are my glee. My responsibilty. So now I flee, I must go back, go back to my family." And so the Moon did. Flying across the air back to the Sun, and back to the Earth that it so dearly missed.

"Hello Sun, I'm sorry. But I've changed, I know you can see. Please accept me back, I beg I plea. I want to help, I want my responsibility."

The Sun replied, "I'm glad that you're back. The humans are now way off track, most of them acting like a maniac. Go, go set up shack." Delighted the Moon flew back to his place.

"I made the right choice," the Moon said. "I've nothing to do but rejoice." And so the Moon did, it started to dance. The Sun saw, and too started to prance.

My small body quivering,

I slip under the worn wood table

Clutching my ragged teddy bear tightly to my chest,

I peer out at the scene before me,

My eyes squinting and wanting to close

Outside my safe little shelter,

I see Mama and Papa facing each other,

Their arms swinging widly

As words are flung back and forth

I don't understand everything said,

But the bits I'm able to decipher,

Are angry and harsh

Not at all the way Mama and Papa usually speak

The words are loud, scary, carving into my tiny ears

I don't want to hear anymore

I curl up on the cold tile floor,

Holding teddy against me

And as the screaming goes on,

I eventually drift into a fearful sleep

A while later, I wake up to Mama plucking me out from my shelter,

Her hands gentle, her blue eyes red and puffy,

As she softly murmurs, "I love you,"

A tired, weary smile is on her face

I stepped back from the gravestone. Made of new marble, and adorned with flowers, it had been put there far before its time. It seemed almost ironic how the birds sang, and the children at the park across the street played in the warm sun, while the body of a special someone had been put in the ground just hours ago. I supposed the deceased must be at peace now, as the stories went, but I could not bring myself to believe it. It just seemed too hard.

A young woman stepped forward from behind me, wiped some tears from her eyes, and laid a fresh boquet of flowers by the grave. It was my wife, Linda. She didn’t notice me, and walked slowly away. She must’ve been struggling with the loss. Her appearance was unexpected and brought tears to my eyes. She continued to walk, taking small, shuffling steps that reminded me of our son, still crying.

At this, I knew it was time. Time for me to say goodbye too. I shivered, scared, yet determined. My jaw was set, and I was formed into a steel. I turned back towards where Linda continued to walk. I sighed, and thought of everyone and everything I knew. I slowly brought my eyes to the gravestone. Read my name one last time. It was time to go. A sigh escaped my lips, disappearing with the wind. I looked towards the small silver car that now carried my wife. Goodbye...

Tags etc:

@demcmurphy

#fiction #shortstory