I Miss Her
I Miss Her
Coming to the flatscreen once again that
my words may encourage me, I seek to understand my ailment. Emotional flatlining has gotten me kicking
the can wondering if I am wanted. My
condition is new to this time, but I have experienced it before.
It’s a sunken, hollow feeling. Like a caged mold holds up my existing
being. I am the sum of my works but
warmth has left. A shell having only use
for what I can perform. Papyrus as a
wasp nest, fragile in its structure. A
boot threatens to squash it.
I am a chemically driven man. Under the care of a psychiatrist, my feelings
are in manual mode. Many pills undergird
my helm. Others calm the waves. Even others congeal the cold waters that they
do not lap my sides. Yet, the air
breezes across my bow. A sun is hidden
and clouds hide warmth once enjoyed. If
I am a ship caught in ice for its own good, then the winds across me are the
same. So, I am stuck.
Lately, I’ve been ok with my course. Pointed west, I am content to be the one
frigid and sure. A constant not wavering. However, lately the wind has been oh so cold
and I retreat to the lower parts of the ship.
For me to write is self-therapy. What is upstairs gets into my fingers as I
see them dance on the keys. Maybe someone
will listen. If peradventure they
read. I miss the one I have known. Her connection to me means more then
anything. I am sorry to put this weight
on her, but her desires liberate me. I
am to know I am her special, “me” if I am to continue. Not on the alarm that way, I simply need her
if I am to thrive.
Business is business. I desire to see her smiling eyes towards me
once again. My fuel, my wind under my
wings. She may not know her effect, but
I know her hidden attention she shows is all to me. So help me, God.
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