Rose, Prose, Poetry

Afraid of Nothing

I thought I dreaded everything else enough -

The ongoing pain that screamed in my skull

And the aching agony in my heart -

But it wasn't anything compared to the fear of nothing.

Oh, how I longed to feel it,

The sting of snow as it filled my shoes

As I stumbled out upon a snowy wonderland

That formed as the thinkers fell asleep.

How I wanted to feel the lingering limerance,

The longing that weighed on my shoulders,

Forming knots in my muscles as I struggled to create.

Oh, how I wanted to cry over others again,

Breaking myself and mending them once again

So that they might thrive once again,

Shining like stars in a lonely, dark sky.

But I couldn't feel that.

I couldn't feel anything.

There was no snow. No rain.

No sharp sunshine or muddy soil.

All I saw was a stained tile ceiling,

Sterile and silent and somber.

I couldn't lift my arms and my heart ran slow,

My breath heavy and soulless.

I was just

Still.

Metal was nestled under my skin

And the medicine dripped into my veins,

The drops rhythmic like a clock.

It felt like a countdown. An omen.

And even though the facts said otherwise,

I tried to decide between white lilies or chrysanthemums,

Though I couldn't even picture them

In my half-conscious state.

I still feel a bit separate. Lost.

It's like a saw through a window at that time,

Catching a whisper of a vision of a different day.

One where I'd face the same image

With the same stark silence,

And with a final flutter of my eyelids,

It would be the end.

Even as I feel the floor beneath my feet

And hear the murmur of people around me,

Muttering about plans and deadlines,

I can't help but feel untethered from reality

And the notion of a certain future,

My values growing vague and warped

With a strange awakening

And awareness of the permanent slumber.

So now I try to slow down and see.

Now I try to let all my emotions seep in,

Even when, somehow, they don't sink in like they used to.

I try to grasp every tangible fractile of this fragile life,

Even when the shards pierce the satin skin of my palms,

Staining them crimson as they dig into flesh.

Because no matter what suffering life brings me,

With all of its sudden joy, strangeness, and sorrow,

It will all be much less intimidating

Because I am very much

Afraid of nothing.