Breathe

The air is getting thick, my throat is closing.  I’m having trouble, it’s hard to

Breathe

The darkness is closing in, the world is empty.  I can’t see, I can’t

Breathe

The end is near, I can feel it coming.  I need to, just once more, I need to

…

This is a terrible poem.  I am sorry.

I stand, silent and afraid, watching her every movement.  She is staring down at me, dry beneath the overhang, wearing a look of amazement.  She does not believe me, perhaps cannot.  Her face hardens and I feel my heart stop.  Her arm thrusts outward, pointing to something far-off and remote.  She wants me to go, to leave immediately and never return.  I stand, silent and afraid, feeling heavy with shame and despair.  She opens her mouth, but the words are lost in the howling wind.  I’m glad I cannot hear.  I turn slowly, begin to walk.  I don’t know where I’m going, but I cannot stay.  I walk for hours, lost in hopeless isolation.  Up ahead I see a river.  I step in and the current pulls me under.  The last thing I see before I lose consciousness is her face, twisted in disgust.

It is still raining.

I don’t know exactly what this is.  It’s not very good, anyway.

I’ve shouted curses
I’ve asked for help
You never answer

I scream your name to the sky
Do you hear me
Do you care

Nothing will change

Hope is gone
But love still remains
I’ll bleed here alone
And pray for the end

Nothing will change
Nothing ever changes

Just a short thing I threw together tonight while I was feeling particularly depressed.  I don’t really like it much, but it’s got potential.  Maybe I’ll edit it up a bit and get some death metal band to scream it out for me.

This is just a short poem I wrote a little while ago.  I had meant to expand it to include a narrative of events leading up to this final act, but then decided to just leave it as is.  It may not be much, but it’s the first thing I’ve written in a long time.

“Perhaps I will go see Joe and ask her what she thinks,” Badger mused after he had eaten his breakfast.  “Joe has seen much more of the world than I have.  She is sure to know where I should begin exploring.”

Joe was an orange cow who lived in the field to the north of Badger’s house.  Joe and Badger were very good friends and spent much of their time together.

So Badger began the walk to Joe’s field.  It wasn’t a very long walk, but Badger wanted to arrive early so that he would have more time to explore.  Joe normally woke with the sun anyway – she wouldn’t mind Badger’s early visit.

On the way to Joe’s field, Badger encountered a small mouse scampering aimlessly by the side of the trail.

“Hello little mouse,” Badger greeted politely.  “How are you today?”

“Oh.  Hello Badger,” the mouse replied.  “I’m not doing well at all.  I’ve lost my cheese!”

“That’s terrible,” Badger replied emphatically.  “How did you lose it?”

“I don’t know!” the mouse cried.  “I just remember looking back and it was gone!”

“Don’t worry little mouse, I will help you find your cheese.”

“Thank you so very much,” the mouse cried gratefully.

“Where should we start our search?” Badger asked.

“I was coming from the west, so I suppose we should head in that direction,” the mouse squeaked excitedly, grateful that someone was helping her.

“Then let’s get started,” Badger declared as he headed off in the direction the mouse indicated.

Badger and the little mouse walked along, scouring the ground for the cheese.  They looked everywhere – underneath rocks, in puddles, in rotting logs, in abandoned burrows, and anywhere else a piece of cheese could have fallen.

“This is hopeless!” the mouse cried after an hour of fruitless searching.  “We’ll never find my cheese!”

“Don’t worry little mouse,” Badger said reassuringly.  “Let’s ask that butterfly over there if she has seen any cheese.”

“Oh, that’s such a good idea!” the mouse squeaked excitedly.  “I’ll get her attention.  Excuse me!  Mrs. Butterfly!”

The butterfly floated slowly over to Badger and the mouse.

“My name is Julia,” the butterfly responded in a coldly dignified tone.  “If you wish for my help in locating your cheese you could at least have the courtesy to use my proper name.”

“How did you know we were looking for cheese,” Badger asked, suspicious.

“I heard your mouse friend squeaking about it long before you even came into view,” Julia responded in the same cold tone. “She’s quite the chatterbox.  How can you stand to be around her?”

“She is much better company than you are turning out to be,” Badger replied stiffly.  “Now if you don’t mind, we will be on our way.”

“Then I guess you will never find your cheese,” Julia called sweetly after them, “for I am the only one who witnessed its theft.”

Badger stopped walking, but did not turn around.  He did not know whether to go back or not.  Julia was annoying, but if she knew where the cheese was. . .

Badger turned slowly around.

“The cheese was stolen?” he called back.

Julia floated back and forth, waiting, but saying nothing.

Badger heaved a sigh of resignation and walked back to where Julia waited patiently.  “Do you know where the cheese is?” he asked.

“No,” Julia relpied curtly.

“Then why did you say you did?” Badger almost yelled.

“I never said I knew where it is, only that I witnessed its theft,” Julia responded didactically.  “You need to learn how to ask the right questions.”

“Alright,” Badger sighed, “who has the cheese?”

“That’s no way to ask anything,” Julia replied indignantly.

The mouse stepped forward suddenly.  “Please, Miss Julia.  If you have any information on the whereabouts of my cheese, could you please let us know?”

“I’d be glad to assist in your search, little mouse,” Julia said with a smile.

“Thank you ever so much!” the mouse squeaked gratefully.

“You are quite welcome little one.  Now, let’s see,” Julia said as she floated in a slow circle.  “You were walking just past here when a small gnome came out from behind that rock there.  He darted behind you, grabbed your cheese, and dashed away.”

“Which way did he go?” Badger asked excitedly.

Julia gave him a cold look before continuing, “I followed him for a short while, but he went into a cave and I could follow no longer.”

“Where is this cave?” Badger asked, ready to run as soon as the direction was indicated.

“Would you PLEASE stop interrupting me?” Julia flared out.  “I am trying to help your mouse friend find her cheese.”

Badger sullenly subsided, but the mouse piped up, “please, Miss Julia, where is the cave?”

“It’s about five minutes walk in that direction, little one,” Julia said, pointing roughly northeast.

“Thank you ever so much Miss Julia,” the mouse squeaked happily.  “You’ve been very helpful.”

“You are very welcome, little one,” Julia responded affectionately.  “You take care of yourself now.  And watch out for your friend; his bad manners will get him into trouble.”

Badger wanted to say something, but he knew it would do no good, so he kept his mouth shut for the time being.  The mouse replied instead, “thank you Miss Julia.  Goodbye!”

And so, Badger and the mouse went off in the direction of the cave.  The mouse was jumping along in nervous anticipation, but Badger walked in silent contemplation.

After a few minutes of silence, Badger asked, “what did you think of her?”

“Who?  Miss julia?”  The mouse waited for Badger’s nod before continuing, “I thought she was nice.”

“Nice?” Badger asked incredulously.  “She called you an annoying chatterbox!”

“Well, that was before she got to know me,” the mouse started slowly.  “But she was being mean to you.”  When Badger only grunted, she continued, “maybe she wasn’t so nice after all.”

“But she did tell us where to find your cheese,” Badger conceded.

“Yes she did,” the mouse said, starting to feel better.  “I wonder how much farther the cave is.”

“She said it was only about five minutes away.  We should be getting there soon.”

“Look!” the mouse squeaked excitedly.  “Is that it?” she asked, pointing to a large cave.

“It must be.  I don’t see any other caves around here.  Let’s go have a look.”

Badger and the mouse walked tentatively toward the mouth of the cave.

“Do you think it’s safe?” the mouse asked nervously.

“We don’t have to go in,” Badger ventured, “but if you want your cheese back . . .”

“We have to go in,” the mouse finished stoically.  “Let’s hurry up and do it, before I change my mind.”

Badger and the mouse crept slowly into the black gulf that yawned beyond the mouth of the cave, unaware that there was more than just cheese in the depths of the earth.

A stitch in time.  A lonely soldier rides down the road.  His armour is less than shiny, but a dull glow still remains.  His eyesight is poor, but his hearing is sharp, so he knows that the misshapen lump down the road in a damsel in distress by the sound of her sobbing.  He approaches slowly, afraid he might startle her.  As he gets closer the woman looks up, tears streaming down her face, and gives him a warm smile.

Salvation.  My hero has come at last, bringing all the pieces of my heart from the four corners of the world.  My happiness shall be eternal.

A leap forward.  A lonely soldier rides down the road.  His armour is less than shiny, but a dull glow still remains.  His eyesight is poor, but his hearing is sharp, so he know that the misshapen lump down the road is a damsel in distress by the sound of her sobbing.  He turns and rides away slowly, afraid to leave, but equally afraid to stay.  As he gets farther and farther away he looks up, tears streaming down his face, and gives the road, his only constant companion, a warm smile.

Broken.  My heart has been torn asunder and all the pieces have scattered on the wind.  Won’t some hero come to save me?

The leaves on autumn trees
The first snow of the year
The fusion of the night and day
A glimpse of a running deer

Curtains of cleansing water
Sheets of ice that crawl
Along the face of a rocky cliff
A songbird’s quiet call

Moonbeams playing on the grass
A gentle country breeze
A crispness to the winter air
A copse of sturdy holly trees

The breath of a newborn child
The light on the morning dew
All these things are beautiful
But nothing compares to you

Time heals all wounds.  Except mine.

Pernicious panjandrums perform palmistry with panache.

“My bus is here.”  End scene.

Is there nowhere to go,
no way to be free?
Am I to remain here forever,
consumed by my grief?

I sit in my bedroom,
gaze out at the stars,
and wonder if peace lies hidden
out there in the dark

I close my eyes tight
and lie down on my bed.
The sounds of the world are fading,
Silence reigns in my head.

As I sat in contemplation
of this world of grief,
deep within myself I discovered
my own place of peace.

I wasn’t sure whether to add an extra stanza before the last one, to explain more fully what happened, or to leave it as is.  I decided to leave it, because I wanted it to be more open-ended.  Perhaps he found God; or maybe he found that he is still the same person inside no matter what happens in the outside world; or it could be that he died and came to peace that way.  It’s up to the reader to put their own interpretation on it.