Kalopsia

My Day

I know how my most favorite day would be like or rather I hope. I have always dreamt of it in the early hours of solitude and even when the bright noon shines on my face casting a halo of pure golden. It has been on my mind when the moon accompanied by it's pals throws a silver curtain on me in a vain attempt to muffle those sobs and to lull me to sleep. I have dreamt of that sleep with my eyes open. I have dreamt of it like I am dreaming right now.

I have awaited that day just for this wait to end forever. This wait has been bittersweet to me. It's thoughts make me dance and mourn. Make me laugh and cry out. It's still too far away but I will engulf it in with open arms. Or may be it will. 

 I will be standing in the balcony of an unknown house facing nothingness. My body clad in white clothes that would infinitely differ from my favorite all black. Maybe I will grow accustomed to it as well. The soft wind would blow my hair back slightly and I will cherish the last essence of life on my moistened lips. My finger tips would caress the white curtains, slowly following a rhythm. I would hum with Daughter singing earnestly in the background with her pained, melancholic voice. Her every word will sound truer than before as she will sing about the beauty of death, bringing along more happiness than a chocolate bar ever could. And I would listen. Carving every low and high in my mind and heart.

Sometimes I fancy that no more thoughts of worry would plague me on that fateful day. Or any thoughts for that matter. As I would stare down that balcony with my feet balancing on the railing, I would breath in the last breath and think for the last time like a wishful damsel about everything and everyone I once loved. Because that day I wouldn't be capable of loving anyone except Death. 

With a soft sigh, I will lose it all. And wind would make me a part of itself. I would stretch my arms wide as if to hug him. My love. My Death. And he would meet me just as the sun would meet the sea. He would kiss me just as the birds would kiss the sky. He would hold me just like Death would hold a lone soul. And he would look beautiful doing it. Making me feel beautiful. I would never be more young as I would be at that very second. Moment. In his arms. Like a child. Opening its eyes for the first time, except that I will be opening them for the last time.

I would tell him to take me with him forever and ever to a place no one returns from. And he would cradle me against his chest and hide me from this world with his obsidian wings sheltering me like night sky.

And I would want nothing else.

Except that right now I do. Time, have some pity on me. I want you to move a little faster. You have been painfully slow lately. I want to finally live the day I have dreamt about. My day. My last day. My death.

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I wrote this a year back. I actually like how my writing style changed during this time. It sounds so solemn, I am in awe of my old self.