I’m certain I know how this will all end … its in a dream – let’s start from the end.

You picture this … your on a set of swings, your pushing against the wind. The wind pushes you back. You move your body against a force. You push yourself. The wind tries to pull  you back. You hang on tight – your flying along with the wind. You feel so different. And yet, it doesn’t feel so different.

I’m certain I know how this will all end … its in a dream – let’s call it indifference.

If you swing yourself on this rusty old swing – the metal bars will break. I wish I could tell you – that before you sat here, and decided to push against yourself, to try and fly .. that it will all come to an end. The swinging will come to a halt. The smile you painted across your face – that will soon chip off. The paint doesn’t last. The wind doesn’t always help. You picture this, I am on the swing. You push me, and I’m soaring towards the sky. My smile is transparent, and my heart is made of metal. It’s all so rusty – I don’t want to break.

A swing set .. this was so innocent.

This dream you had,  I told you .. I always told you .. keep your dreams to yourself.

I wish I felt the wind brush my eyes, and kiss my lips.

I wish, that good dreams never end.

But …

I am not as before,
Everything in me has changed.
I am not the person you know,
The times have changed who I am,
I really was a person
Now I am a past.

Kil shy feni te’7a’wal
Im not the person you know
Il ze’man gha’yer o 7a’wal
And you no longer mind.

You are no longer on mind,
After you,
Its all more than enough.

Do not come asking,
Do not come wondering.
I have had enough of it all.
Seal your lips

Do not ask and wonder…

I am not anymore.
I am not a person you know,
I am not a person
I am a past,

When you go away

i will have no one.

I tried numerously to – draft – edit – post. But my hands are prone to navigate there way  to clicking delete. I am tired. I am waving the white flag. Yes, I am pathetically choosing to surrender and declare that I am pitying my own self. Insane, it’s my middle name ~l~.

I have stopped writing for awhile. I have lost my so called creative self.. My tongue is tied, my lips are sealed, I type but nothing meaningful escapes. Words. Enemy.

I sense this post is a total fragment. You reader can’t even help and be my safe clause.

?

Can you live with this hour silence? I am so Desperate.

Your red eyes insisted for a cigarette. So you reached for one from the pack and sandwiched it between your thinning lips. Taking a match you repeadtedly lined it to the matchbox searching for a flame. At last, it surfaced. With trembling hands, you lit the cigarette. Gradually the scent of used tobacco encompassed you. The smoke you exhaled parted those thoughts keeping you wide awake. Hastily, the spent ashes colored your stained shirt and the cigarette sordidly shortened. So you put it out, on the nightstand.

In need of another cigarette, you found none, but matches you held plenty. So you lit match by match, enhaling the faint smell of smoke, and with a sad smile, you blew them out.

Your sleepless night., if only…