The Visit

I step into a spacious room, the faded carpet drowned with feet.

Shuffling of bodies and creaky wooden pews gash into the heavy silence.

Towering walls painted eggshell-white keep their secrets hidden inside for they've seen too much in this never empty room.

My palms graze the walls feeling every ridge and bump of chipping paint, color melting into my skin.

The walls, although hollow, feel heavy inside, filled with a thousand secrets; both spoken and kept by the feet that walked here.

The pews grow tired, creak with longing, the desire to hold more than just the weight of those who sit here. The aged wood absorbing stories of what once was, restless, the wood exhales a sigh of defeat.

Bloomed white roses birth life along a narrow walkway, scattered petals dance around my feet.

Light pierces through dusted glass, reaching out its hand, calling the petals out to where life thrives- back home.

In a hurry, they float past and out the door gasping for light outside these lifeless walls.

I look up to a ceiling that stretches out into the sky, gasping for air to stop drowning, but the dark envelops its lungs pulling it back down where life is unreachable- imaginary like that of a dream.

The dark seeps up, intertwines its lifeless fingers around my chest, sealing me out from the rest of the world. My nose and mouth filled with smoke, a mask forms over my head.

Inhale- 

No oxygen found in here.

The mask seals itself over my head, squeezing, consuming all in its path, the darkness thrives.

Exhale-

Struggled breaths squirms its way out, crawling across the floor out the door behind the petals that float.

Toes touch the edge of uneven steps. Knees bend with hesitation, if they could they'd turn around and run.

The light grows dimmer up here, eager to show its face but lacks the strength to do so. They surrender with defeat, so dim the room remains.

The overpowering scent of polished wood and rose fill my nose, slithering its way into my lungs, nauseous.

Blue veins snaked around my arm match blue petals sprinkled alongside the white roses, unafraid to make an appearance.

They are not intimidated by the persistence of the cold void that tries to grab hold of them and never let go.

Blue petals are a fighter, and there they shall remain.

Warmth of the sun melts through dusty windows, blanketing the wood beneath it.

Life finds its way into the thin opening of the wood, only to be enveloped by the hollow space within.

The wooden box weighs itself onto a mahogany table, littered with hand-written cards, pictures and wishes of safe travels. 

The table's legs shake with exhaustion.

They yearn for rest away from this place.

Another burdensome box to hold up, the box apathetic, continues to crush, till the table legs sink further into the ground beneath it.

The apathetic box takes no regard to the table, indifferent on top of its shoulders, continues to sit there, a small chuckle emerges.

I find myself closer to the box now, each step closer separating me further away from my body.

Shallow breaths emerge from tiresome lungs, quivering with every exhale.

Delicate fingers appear paler in this light, my back pricked with a thousand eyes staring blankly at me from behind.

Eyes of what would be streams of blue and brown are nothing but black and hollow, speechless as they stare.

Stiff feet dragging with every step make their way to the top where the box lays.

Distant sounds of chirping birds enter the room. Their cheerful songs brighten the room only for a moment, they fly away, taking their cheerfulness with them.

Scattered breaths force their way out my lungs, my throat dry from the smoke that continues to envelop me.

Heavy eyelids forcing themselves to remain open, thoughts scattered like shattered glass on a floor.

My translucent hand, shaky, finds its way to the small latch holding the box shut.

My thumb flips the latch open, the sound echos, carrying its way to the back of the room.

Eyes widen, staring blankly at my thumb grasping the latch, the pressure turns my thumb from cold to numb.

Inhale- 

The room feels quieter, like someone pressed pause and all life stopped mid-motion, waiting impatiently.

A numbness finds its way into my feet, up my knees locking them in place.

The rose petals behind me trail further away now, in a hurry to be anywhere but here.

The wooden box slowly opens, a cold chill air escapes its grasp and trickles down my spine.

I lean in, cautiously with piercing gaze, my hands gripping the plum fabric blanketed inside.

Eyes meet with dark hair gently caressing cheeks painted rose.

Pale hands folded innocently, a rose laid in hand.

Blue petals decorate wisps of hair, laid precisely around her head.

I lean in further, closed eyes though I did not see.

Instead, they meet with dark eyes of chocolate brown like me.

Her hands cold to the touch, trails of blue veins in view.

I turn around and back again, laid in that plum cushioned box is not just a body, but my reflection in view.

My eyes close with relief.

Exhale- 

I trail off into the world among the rose petals wrapped in blue.