We Remember

We walk through a field made of broken glass, savoring each step as we subject our lonely feet to the razor shards ejecting sporadically out of the dead ground. The sky we walk under is grey, and gives no distraction for us to enjoy, ultimately our time here is infinite, only known to the endless gnawing untold confessions, jaws of thousands of teeth mauling the antiseptic soaked rags that drape our body.

Our eyes, glazed over, completely blind, isn’t that peculiar, to be blind with eyes wide open, it’s a curious case. Though glazed and blatant, the tears swell and fall and swell and fall as we walk. Emotionless and empty tears fall and drown us, not being able to resist the urge to gargle violently through the pestilential puss filled pedagogy erupting from our innards.

Each step more pain, each step completely numb, the pain and color of life is gone, ultimately unlikely a matter of importance, but we can remember, back when the glass was grass, and the clouds produced rays unlike the incessant grey. We walk, we walk, and we remember, all wondering together when we will return to the trumpets and warm gold, instead of the wind and cold silver.

In the distance a Mountain, made of coal and silver, jaded to the very core. Is this our destination? We walk toward this Rock but progress seems impossible.

What’s this? I can… feel, the glass, it hurts, it hurts so much, I’m…. this makes us happy. We stop walking, letting the glass enter our flesh completely, flexing our happy toes to dig the shards in deeper. I pick up my right foot, and stomp it forcefully into the ground. We remember, why we are here, the glaze falls from our vision, we can see again. I look down, and see bright green grass, eyes fall towards the sky to see a beautiful symphony of golden whisps, purple auras, and a blue haze, all emanating from the same horizon. The crisp wind, slowly…. very slowly, begins to turn to a warm breeze, pulling us up and out of our hunch, shoulders back with a large breath, filling the lungs that were once sewn shut.

Looking forward, towards the Mountain, still coal, but the silver is gone, replaced by empty space. I liked that mountain. We walked toward it. The tears that once drowned my lips in sorrow now become full of gratitude, and joy. We escaped. Though the shackles we once bore complete still hang from our extremities, we are not bound, we have succeeded.

We stop at a familiar sight, we remember this.

A Tree, standing alone, bent and curvy in the most anomalous fashion, I remember and feel fear, knowing the hole hidden beneath the roots only brings falsehood and tremendous turmoil for the soul. I remember the jagged bone ripping through my skin, shattering my hopes and aspirations for the sake of a little fun.

Yet this time though I may be afraid, I stand resolute, for we remember, we have learned much in our travels across this mind prison. Breathing deeply….. In……… and out……….in……...and out………..

We sit, at the edge of the hole, careful not to fall in, but daunting enough to gaze into the abyss, take witness of the evils and darkness that swirls within us. When, as we sit cross-legged at the precipice of pain and suffering, in a quaint manner, a small serpent moves from the hole, onto the hand I had unconsciously extended toward the creature. For some odd reason, I love the snake, feel as if I know it all too well, and we begin to cry, the same way you would when meeting an old friend whom you thought had forgotten about you, but in fact has been searching for you to say “You’re alright”. My small, pitch black, ophidian friend spirals down my arm, wrapping it completely within its smooth body. I lift my hand to my eyes, and face the animal, we connect and lock into a gaze. I know this creature, I can feel the pressurized energy almost bursting from its scales, an endless anxiety haunting an animal who should be carefree. Their piercing yellow eyes almost poison enough to kill a grown human, but I feel safe when I see them. Slowly the muscle underneath the skin of the snake begins to shift and move unnaturally, until a small, black cat, has taken its form. The same anxiety almost bursting from its seams, the same poisonous yellow eyes comforting another troubled soul. We comfort our feline friend, and they do the same. Laying in the grass, looking up into the blue haze, slowly... drifting... into another chapter of this journey. “High in the night sky, dreams, drift by… giving hope, that we might fly… to the stars, sparkling in our eyes”