Self, repair, healing... where once the pain urged a retreat, I can now see the magnificent sculpture those tumultuous waters made in their swirling, crashing and sighs upon the sand. So many treasures there, just swept below the surface, just there within reach. And the low whispering of those memories have made themselves known. I am there. Here. Still.
Weakness, pain... sleepless nights in a backdrop of music, stirring the once-calmed thoughts and memories like waves tossing treasures on the sand. Little gifts, once buried, now swirling between the deep and crystal blue surface of awareness. Awareness.
Spent the majority of last night listening to music. To quiet those whispers within that speak wether I want them to or not, even in sleep. Sleep...always there in the shadows of a small room with tall windows. Life's graffiti splashed upon the walls. So much color there, moving by candlelight. It's only memories, sometimes animated in dreams. An unwilling passenger on a ride destined to never end. And yet I'm here, finally, opening my eyes, stepping closer to those walls to see. I just want to see. Afraid to see. I want to turn, to squeeze my eyes shut.. tight. To run. To run. Because it's all there in full-blown color, splashed, swept, carefully drawn.
Careful. Don't look. Just don't.
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