In the end.

What are you thinking she asks?

There is no answer. Only the silence that she has now come to know.

What happened to all the words?

It seems they were ripped violently from this plane

only to be absorbed by black matter that will never let them go.

Where is the laughter? Why has it died away? Were there no watering holes to fuel it’s liquid needs?

What of the tears?

They have dried and formed small hills of salt on the plains of her existence.

Where is the proof of lovely times past?

It has disappeared like invisible ink.  Only to be seen again when acidic juice falls upon the pages. Revealing what was but is no longer.

What of the heart?

It wills upon itself scar tissue, in the hope of covering open wounds.

But it wasn’t all bad. Right?

 

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The Land of tears …

It is a place where we all must go alone.

Where we deal with loss without encumbrance’s and outside noise.

Where we lay ourselves down on a bed of soft, pink, sand and let the ocean of salt water tears wash over us.

Cleansing our souls and purifying our minds.

It is a secret place that can only be found when ones heart is truly feeling and open.

Vulnerability is a requirement, as is humility and gentle compassion for one’s self.

It’s where you go  to make things right.

So that you may, in the future, walk in the land of love once again.

The secrets whispered  through moist, teary, lips will float forever in this land.

And the word “almost” is the sentry…

 

(an older piece written in August of 2008)