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Air was swooshing and carrying the murmurs of nature that traveled long ways and into his buzzing skull. Looking at his hands, scarred to the bone, very delicate, Kyle tries to remember, pushing himself up from the grounds. He looked at himself more closely: torn out clothing, scars on his arms, a split lip, black eye. Simply, he thinks, I am a mess. The grass, he noticed while walking aimlessly in the meadow, was a dull yellow, in which signifies the end of fall. The smell is intoxicating, a mixture of pomegranate and dragon fruit that fills his nose with every ragged breath. “In and out, in and out”, he murmurs to himself. With shivers down his spine, he turns around, surveying the place. Downhill is the lake, the little apple tree, the huge rock that shone on the sun. He could picture it from memory and here lies the real thing. Kyle frowns a little, kneeling on the ground. The memory is mistaken; it should be, because what he feels is oddly at peace. But everything is a faded color, a little less of what it used to be. Suddenly an earsplitting screech made its way into the meadow, provoking his vision to become red with an irrational fury, animalistic in nature. He feels disoriented. He scrambled about as he tries to regain his balance, checking that the ground haven’t moved or turned upside down while he was unconscious. What lies before him now was not a dull patch of grass but a dark figure on the ground. Uncomprehending, his chest tightens and his breath catches, releasing a sob. With tears Kyle ran towards the body, so lifelessly, so battered, almost unrecognizable. Suddenly, as he reached for the body, a fierce pain flashed into his skull. He could still see the red strands of hair.

I’m happy, unlike you.
You may think I’m too perky,
and too loud,
but that’s because you’re just too busy
wallowing in your own self-pity.
I look on the bright side,
and so I have a reason to smile.
But you?
You think you’re oh-so cool,
because you complain quietly,
and refuse to look at life
as something other than a form of torture.
You seem to consider happiness as stupidity,
and anyone happy,
annoying.
But you know?
All those happy people?
Even me?
We get sick of the constant depression.
Bored with your apathetic view on existence.
In fact, it’s rather annoying.

You’ve returned. And there are knots in my stomach – so out of place.
It’s not like we haven’t been here before. But today, it’s different. And I know that.

I only want to make it easy for you, but I’m afraid my attempts will only worsen an already emotional situation – a death that only effects me because it effects you.

How do I help? Act normal?
I’ve been worried for the past week an a half; wishing I could supply some comfort to you.
And the fact that I couldn’t left me depressed and unable to sleep.

But now you’re back.

And my emotions conflict me as your car pulls up, parking where I cannot see.
I’m happy you’re back – I just want to give you a hug & tell you it’s all okay. That I’ve taken care of everything. That you can cry if you want to because I know it’s hard.
But I’m also afraid of how you will be. I’ve never seen you like this. Will it be the same as always? Or will the shock of loss alter your personality.

Do I go towards the car? Do I stay back?

I don’t wait long as I hear the door opens and your footsteps make their way towards me.

My heart is wild and I can feel the tears pushing my eyes out of my skull.
I don’t want to cry, but I know the moment I see you I will.
If I don’t try to calm myself down, the flood gates will prevent me from speaking – and we don’t want that.

I hiccup down a sob. Bite my lip. Shake my head.

And now you’re in front of me.

It was all in vain as you smile down at me.
A smile I know – but it doesn’t feel the same. And I wail like the baby that I am.

I stand in place as you walk towards me and I automatically regret how weak I’m being. I can move my feet – I didn’t just lose a loved one.
But you were always the stronger of us two.

”I’m sorry.” I say. For crying, for over thinking, for not making it any easier. I know, you know, just what I’ve done.
You don’t respond, you just hug me. A hug reminding me that we’re still solid, and the two weeks you were away didn’t change you or make you forget.
Reminding me that I’m crazy and over emotional, and of course you wouldn’t treat me any different, just because your world is up-side down.
Reminding me that I’ve always known it’ll be okay.

Of Age

The light breeze brushing the skin,
Eyes staring out the window at nothing,
The hum of the city that is a hum no more,
The ears escaped to seek sounds of shores,
There is no noise in the thoughts that came,
A remark on the irony of time is made,
The pictures are old, faces in them are young,
A wonder as to whom those faces now belong,
As the piano plays the eyes see a montage,
Tears find their way across a cheek,
Echoes heard from memories gone,
Wishes are made to return to the past.
Today will be a memory again,
May be full of hope, or of regret,
Arms searching to hold them,
Hands wanting to make the future,
The mind a fallen leader with wisdom.
Happiness is sought, had less often,
Some understood it was not to be found,
But accepted.