Heavy hearts

The age where life becomes silent

The morning sky creeps in and the trees sway together as if whispering their secrets to the wind.

I am awake but my mind wanders off to the days where i would walk silently to the sound of her hum. This morning feels like any other and i believe the trees would like to agree with me if they could. I was was once twelve, fifteen, and eighteen. I believed in love and everything it came with. At the age of twenty there is not much to believe in other than yourself and the fact that the sun rises and sets whether there is death or life. To love is to lose a game of chess as you are knocked down and your opponent yells checkmate, it's over.

Throughout the years memory will not be your friend. Execrable times will be remembered and your mind will lead you to believe it is only pain you can feel. You will forget her smile, her eyes, her light, and her beauty. Only to remember the way her tears fell and stained your bleached white shirt. Memory will make you throw that shirt away and scramble it out of the trash days later. You only remember her song and the way it fell from her lips like a stinging kiss on the cheek.

Man can only love as much as he is loved. Love is the source of all, but with it there is a time limit like all the things in life that breathe. I am hearing her her voice from years ago ring behind my eyes as my feet drag on the fern beneath my feet. My destination carries on as the trees follow and murmur that love is not unkind, but like a thorn with honey. I shall believe them for now.