“Keep it locked up inside
Talk about the weather
Don’t talk about it”
It has caught up with me again, this death. I tried to run as far away as I could but it was too quick and too clever. Just when I thought I was safe I slipped and fell. Maybe I did not even try. Now everything is empty, nothing more vacuous than my heart. The tears fall for a grief I can’t name and a pain I can’t feel. I don’t even care enough to stop or blink them away. I wish it could be a storm instead.
One minute I am alive and the next deader than a tomb. They had been warning me of my fate. They had seen it before and tried to rescue me. They all added up to a precise measure of regret. But everything passed by, soundlessly, remorselessly, past my indifference like the river I sometimes saw.
All that was left behind was a trickle, sometimes, waves of regret. Of what could have been, a dirge for what she should have been. Not the trite pale mask that shadows the spirit. Is there a reason, an explanation, I ask. Is there ever? Should I blame it on loneliness? Or blame it on the fear of being a fool that wraps me up in loneliness? Weren’t there so many trying to bring me to life? What should I blame it on then? Because I must, mustn’t I?
I try to create an account of the moments and years gone by. But what book will they fill, this recollection of pity and regret? Who will read it but for me? Who will care to release me but I? It isn’t even worth a try… A scream forms at the edge of my thoughts but it just turns into a listless stare.
I can hear the dirge now. It grows faster and faster till I can’t even count this incredible fear. It moves to a two step. One step at a time.
I wrote of this before when I had found some fight. Now all I want is to be still, to be absolutely quiet, and still. Let everything rush past till I can find some reason to find some meaning again, to find some feeling again. Cry out to be rescued again, to be seen again.
Why did I stop running? Maybe I did not even try. Maybe. Yes, I did not even try. Death was too beautiful, too seductive, and too easy. It welcomed me with open arms. And I went to meet it. A little further everyday, a little closer every night and a little sweeter with every glance.
A bitter laugh escapes from somewhere. It caresses my ears and wafts away. Maybe I should follow it. At least it will lead somewhere. Away from this song, away from myself. And then again, maybe someday, I will try.
“Treading trodden trails for a long long time
I find that sometimes it’s easy to be myself
Sometimes, I find it’s better to be somebody else
So much to say
So much to say
So much to say”
*‘So Much to Say’ – The Dave Mathews Band
