I SEE MY BREATH ESCAPE MY SOUL
NUMB
ARE MY FEET BURIED IN SNOW
SURROUNDING
COMPLETE
I AM
SHIVERS DOWN MY
SPINE TINGLING SENSATION
I AM FOUND
IN THIS WINTER
SUNLIGHT HIDES
UNMOVED I STAND
"HELLO?"
COLD AIR AROUND ME
I SEE MY BREATH ESCAPE MY SOUL NUMB ARE MY FEET BURIED IN SNOW SURROUNDING COMPLETE I AM SHIVERS DOWN MY SPINE TINGLING SENSATION I AM FOUND IN THIS WINTER SUNLIGHT HIDES UNMOVED I STAND "HELLO?"
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Excitement—it’s what I have to feel, isn’t it?
I’m reaching the top, I’m close, but I can’t do it. There’s something wrong with me. It stops me. Can you help me? I am trying, trying to see why. What’s wrong, I ask, but I get no answer, only the feeling of incomplete. I’m right there, it feels close, but why can’t I go pass that point of no return? I’m stopped dead on my tracks—I wait. Nothing. Why? Push me. Loud.
Those horns calling out to me, melody rings in my ears as I stand still listening attentively, waiting. It’s time to go. Rubber touches dirt, sinking and leaving craters on the earth now scarred but I hear no complaints, tripping over hard steel I reconsider as something below me vibrates-- that sound… the horns again. It’s coming. As my feet move forward my mind goes elsewhere, her face appears next to me; a blurry image of her beauty and then I feel it. The ground below me is shaking. Her smile vanishes into thin air. I notice I’ve kept walking-- I am now further away from where I started. In that moment, I hear it. Those horns once more like trumpets from an orchestra calling out seeking a response, but my mind ignores them. Reality is punctured by memory yet again. She reappears walking beside me. She holds out her hand reaching, mouthing words I cannot make out, confused, I stare at her. So she screams. Intensified by the horns her voice becomes distorted, loud and deafening it’s now pure noise. I reach out to her but her body turns to ash, I wasn’t quick enough. I’m sorry. My instant response is a mirror image, opening widely my jaw stretches but only a gasp covers the air. And then the horns. Those blasted horns. I feel my stomach drop at the sight of her, a sick feeling engulfs me. Noticing the wind carrying away the dust I realize how further away my feet have carried me. Reality. But it doesn’t stop. It keeps coming faster, the horns become a reminder that-- she’s not here—I still want her. Then it hits me. Eyes open slowly and a bright light is upon me; realization that I’m awake is presented. “Ash…” I whisper. I can still hear the horns. I met a man at a fork in the road,
he spoke my language but held no tongue, upon my arrival he showed me the way, whichever I chose he had nothing to say. I saw my reflection in the river in between, if I went left or right my future was to be seen, but the man didn't speak, he held his words, he observed me go left, then followed along. He pointed to the right where I saw myself walking, I opened my mouth but I couldn't start talking, “That’s you in another possibility,” “I’ll try to explain to the best of my ability.” Then he told me about variables, change and the universe, endless outcomes of choices and options that remained constant, it wasn't until I started aging that it bothered my conscience. The other me lived a life of loneliness and pain, for he had taken his choices for granted, I tried warning him and yelled to explain, but he had his own memories implanted. I saw the other me grow memorable and old, he stopped at a fork in the road awaiting someone’s arrival, this had been my moment of revival. So the man explained that in one road I chose to become him, the foolish decisions had brought upon my ruin, while in another life I had chose my redemption, and through this decision I had reached my salvation. You open them, you close them,
you go through them, you come from them, they lock, they unlock, they show you the way, they close the way, and on the clock, tick tock. New opportunity, old chance, a path to the past, a road to the future, a way forward, a step backwards, a new beginning, or an old acquaintance, a chance to forget, but not to forgive. So go ahead, reach out and open, so the circle can be unbroken, because if you’re leaving don’t look back, these doors wait for no one, so good luck. |
WriterMy name is Francisco, you can call me Zisco. Archives
April 2017
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