My previous anchors have left through one outlet or another and I sit, a visitor in this rotting ship too big, full of flotsam yet devoid of anything resembling sustenance.
My body hurts with constant headaches, pains, stiffness full of heaviness and malaise. Like living within a mosquito draped bed waiting for someone, a single kind soul to bring me a pitcher of cool water without having to beg. Waiting, too weak to pace, waiting.
The pace so sluggish that each second seems like an hour and sleep isn't nearly as deep and refreshing as it once was.
Remorse, throwing pebbles on a grave and walking away because it isn't what it was and a new tomorrow isn't a gamble but a given and the dice are rolling.
No longer trapped but standing amongst treasure chests all requiring the turn of the key in my pocket, in my hand and I stand very much alone neither good nor bad nor indifferent, just knowing more than I care to share.
They've taken one step back...or maybe I've taken two.
Patterns, observing the patterns as the brush clears the way of the paths once obscured.
The tone of voice tells me more than any words ever could.
A different time calls for different tools and a change of approach.
I hope to feel even an ounce better really really soon. Obviously, the climate suits me like a jacket of ick. Unhappiness hangs thick, grey, muddy, sullen and with depressive sighs.
Wherebe my spring? Just one little buttercup or ray bursting forth with heartwarming heat. At least a coat warm and soft enough to protect me from this ever present darkness. Or one sock to remind me that this moment, these seconds, hours and days will not last forever...it only Feels that way. Throw me a frickin bone. Tell me this will get better. This dragging dragging behind the team of sullen, sad, slow moving horses pulling me through the muck of years defeated, sorrows shed and those now gone needs to kick it up a notch as I wallow too deeply.
So much can change...within a day. From glory to great defeat. Suck
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