DIALOG & QUOTES

QUotES…

There is no way to die that is not painful. I would know. Be it the tearing of flesh or the passing of time, it all hurts just the same. 

If time supposedly destroys all things, then how does time heal all wounds.

I feel that quite the opposite is true. Time creates wounds that never truly heal.

After that, I could no longer bring myself to seek the gate.

To find the ones that I had lost . To rescue them from their fate.

Because they were not lost. They never needed rescuing.

I could barely recognize myself, would they recognize me? I was no longer who I was to them. I no longer had the will to do it.

I am deafened by echoed thoughts and blinded by burning memories. Memories seared into my heart, I can no longer see the light of a life once lived. Only fragments of a shattered window. Shards of fading smiles. Of broken laughter. Of the quiet heartbeats and shared wonders. We only remember that which hurts most . We remember the river but not how we fell in. We drift with the flow of time, but have forgotten how to swim. We can only look back as we are swept away.

Between two worlds we can't believe. Our battered hearts refuse to see, the expanding moments stretched from one. Extending a hand to bring us home. With every waking second we cling to the burden of our soul, to breathe in the scent of our shared woes and drink in the peaceful notes. Our eyes adjust and the worlds are gone, back to the dreams of home.

It is clearer now that existence is divided. Cleaved in two from an unknowable entity, the truth of a larger world that most will never know. It is a pane of glass stained with blood. We see a hazy meadow splashed with crimson. Searing pain and tearing flesh befall those who break it, but it is the only way to return home. The other side is clear but I cannot seem to break the glass of our divided world.

I have awoken more times than any other. The warmth of sleep has given way to chills of endless dread. I tire of sleep. I live in a waking dream that strips me bare. It cuts deep and gifts me with scars that never heal. I rip open the sutures and press at the flesh, recounting the bliss of times when I felt. Pain, sadness, joy. They are privileges that I no longer deserve. I have forgotten them as I have forgotten how to wake from the the chill of sleep.

I have given up seeking the key to the door that I can never pass through. I had looked for so long that I realize now, I was looking for the wrong key. Was it here all along? How could I not see. Was it pain that overshadowed my aching heart? Perhaps. I have relished the pain and the joy that it wrought but now I fear I no longer hurt. Not like I have. She warms me like I haven't felt in years. I know not when. Her voice I long for. Her scent fills me with memory. I remember it. Like the rush of water I remember it.