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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