Down the rabbit hole? What do you know of rabbit holes? Have you followed those red eyes into the dark until your own eyes began to glow pink and shapes began to form in the shadows and the dancing began and all you could do was keep moving, keep moving…
I’ve lived in holes and walked down dark roads. I’ve found myself in shallow water sobbing, sobbing, hoping to see blood because it would mean I had finally sobbed my heart up and out. I’ve been a ghost with two empty suitcases trying to walk on broken feet to the end of the block and disappear. Not die, just cease to be. There’s a difference.
Those damn red eyes. They’re always mine. And I thought that crying would wash the red out. And I thought that pretending to pray would wash the red out. And I thought that self-punishment would wash the red out. But when you wake up in the morning you realize you’re still down in that hole and that you have two choices: crawl up and out or dance the night away. And somehow dancing has always come easy to me…
But last night I conquered a kingdom. I brought myself to my knees and I prayed for strength and something other than darkness finally moved me and I heard strong words and realized they were mine, and I saw light at the end of the tunnel and realized it was at last the direction I was heading.
You can fail to relate and you can spend the cold night alone and you might never realize that I didn’t just save myself, I saved you too, although only for a night. But I won’t congratulate myself for that because I know it’s only a byproduct and it’s not my responsibility to see you succeed and it’s not within my powers to change how much red is in your eyes. I know the red is blindness, but I could never convince you. Only the light at the end of the tunnel can make you truly see.
6 comments:
Intense! Your words are so powerful...I feel like any comment wouldn't do it justice. I love the imagery!
it was a powerful moment. pulled some intense feelings out of me and i was glad to pour them out on something as unforgiving as paper and see that they still held strong to the reality of what i was feeling.
"I’ve been a ghost with two empty suitcases trying to walk on broken feet to the end of the block and disappear." This line..this line..this line... provided that thing that every good writer hopes to give to the keen reader. faster heart beat; tingling fingers; a brief surge of endorphins: the creative flush that connects one with all. thank you.
amendment: it's actually the entire paragraph. it jacked me. that's how i know i love it.
this is the reason i fear to share what i write. i aspire to paint with words the way you do. the perfect way you write, fills me with envy, admiration and shame.
to you i dedicate these tears i cry.
oh sunny! this sort of writing comes once in a blue moon! if i could churn out stuff like this on a regular basis i would be rich. but this kind of thing is only the byproduct of a composite of major life-affecting events. this was damn good and i know it, and i also know i don't have anything AS good coming for a long time. i'll have to live another 10 years before i have enough material for another one page wonder. :)
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