Musings

I fight death every night. I await, in the darkness, deaths presence. So far, I've been winning the battle though, at times, I wish death would win. The battles are like a expertly choreographed wrestling match. Back and fourth, the battle rages, fiercely, for hours as the night progresses. Am I stronger than death? I must be since I'm winning. I admit death is a mighty foe. Ultimately, over the years, it has turned into a war raging through the hours. Is the war winnable? I don't know.

Death surrounds me! The family members, the friends I've lost to that fucking life stage that no one should experience. The torment caused by the deaths in my life seep into the deep recesses of my mind. The question "Why?" always comes into my inquisitive brain. There is no real answer. As in life, answers are fleeting. I've been mourning for decades. It fucking hurts too much. Trauma follows my steps. Does time really heal? It hasn't for me. Time to put on the disguise of ok and walk out the door.

Fuck you, death. Fuck you, love. You've caused nothing but pain, torment, altogether hell. I've lost people. I've lost love. I mourn for the people that I've lost. Who's next?

I've known love. I've tasted love like a sun kissed honeydew melon. I've felt love like a brisk Spring wind. I've seen love like a gorgeous sunset over an ocean with a beautiful hue.

Long and winding has been my path. Different cities, different states, seeing some of America. If my eyes could speak, what would they say about the sights of my path.

Deactivate my mind. Let me have some peace, even if it's just a little bit. Why do you always have to function. I've heard of people who can shut it down. They're the lucky ones.

I saw you today, well, someone who looks like you. It hurt. Why are you still in my mind when it's been so long. I can't stop it, no matter how hard I try. It's said we all have a twin. I must have found yours. Maybe it's just torture.

Lost love. Is it all just bullshit? I wish it was. I know the pain it causes. The hurt, the anguish, the destruction. No one sees that side of lost love. It remains hidden inside the person. Keeping that person in a prison.