The Wind Whisperer

The Wind Whisperer


The cadence of a cold heart, caught on the cruel, bitter winds of the world. Drifting, endlessly, falling closer to the ground, but never quite reaching. An illusion of flying. If you can...catch me... :)




A story. An open ended question. If you could dance along the riverbanks of each waking morning, what colour would the sunrise paint your eyes? If this were a ballet, our feet would stay upon the ground. But we'd like to think otherwise, wouldn't we? Maybe this story is a pretty good one. Maybe the glove doesn't fit the hand. Maybe the glove just fits.

I Go No Further

Posted by Jayson on 2011-02-24


"Delilah, I'm broken," I say.

What has happened to me?

I want nothing more than to lie

Under transparent tables

Gasping in a hot plume

As it fills

My

Weak

Lungs,

The slow exalting decay of my breath,

Because suicide,

Doesn't have to pass quickly.

To fade, gradually, quietly, by my own hand -

They can already see through me.<

I want to be trampled on

A filthy slut

Hated

Weak and joyless

Until my life has become nothing more

Than the greatest tragedy.

I want love.

I go no further

For fear of what I will say.

Delilah does not exist.



Jayson-signature

1 whispers:

kinnery said...

I'll be your Delilah, my love. Don't be afraid to work, strengthen your lungs.

Grace & peace,
Kinnery

February 26, 2011 at 12:33 PM

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