wake

Hold, Hold, Let Go

Holding a knife’s edge
it draws crimson droplets
that swiftly form a sea of red
It puddles beneath the hand
 
and still the grip tightens
Anger, Guilt, Passion, Hatred
Reasons to never let go
 
When memory fails
bitterness remains in its wake
 
The knife cuts only you though.
 
Or its dropped
and Relief is felt in a soft wave
 
washing over you
healing you from the reason
you couldn’t let go
 
The weight lifts and floats away
the chains unlocked
and you can soar higher now
as long as memory remains away
 
Pride and power come
from letting go
an invisible crown you wear
Succeeding, finally, at years’ long goal
But maybe memory still holds it.
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Feverish Dreams

My dreams plague me with vivid realities so farfetched and daunting I’ve no choice, but to run. My feet pound against barren dirt, stirring dust into the air. Despite the burning feel of it, I must push on.
 
Glancing behind me, I see a pack of wolves. Scratch that. They’re much bigger than wolves. Much faster, too. Their snarls echo off the cave walls I’ve been placed in by my overactive imagination. I know it’s not real and yet my heart races.
 
Teeth sink into my calf and I fall forward with a scream. The wet, slickness of blood drips down my leg and sends these unknown creatures into a frenzy. Their bites shred my arms to ribbons.
 
Just when I’m about to pass out, I have been transported to the centre of a storm. No shelter in sight. But of course, I say to myself and will my sleeping self to rouse. It’s of no use.
 
The rain shifts from small drops to heavy bullets, or so it feels. My skin tingles and bruises under the assault. Thankfully my limbs are restored and I can run towards the edge of the clouds. The ground is wet and I slip with each step. Mud grabs my shoe off and I keep running, leaving it to the land. I can see the sun shining beyond the black clouds and I yearn for its serenity.
 
It’s too late, though. Hail the size of watermelons falls from the clouds. Lightning forks, stabbing at my tiny presence on the ground. The thunder sounds like laughter amidst the roar of the storm.
 
For the first time in years, I stop running. I stand in the centre of the chaos and let the storm strike me down. It doesn’t take long. Both hail and lightning hit me and it’s the most painful thing I’ve ever felt.
 
I wake with a shout and feel my head, inspect my pillows for blood. Everything’s wet from my sweating heat and my skin’s red. Upon closer inspection, I see white forks winding under my skin, following my veins.
 
Not again, I think and lapse back into darkness.
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Absent

Not going to lie, I feel absent from my own life, if that makes any sense. I wake up, go about the day, and yet it feels void of meaning. Hoping tomorrow, this feeling is somehow banished from existence.

In the meantime, I’m helping my mom engrave wine glasses as a bridal shower gift for my future sister-in-law.

[Current energy= restlessness X anxiety X defeated mentality]

Here’s hoping tomorrow is actually a new day where I have motivated energy to do what needs doing.