I sat up in a swift, decisive motion of reflex that night and I was certain it was one in repulsion.
My last memory before snapping into a state of consciousness was of a warm red sun in the distance, drawing closer and closer with a piercing radiance of light my body could no longer contain.
Like wild fire set alight in a sea of moving clouds, like blood seeping into and smearing white fabric crimson red, was I losing my mind? To think that it was staring me down with all its unfaltering sureness. But that did not matter, as the atoms in my body have made up theirs - repelling in apprehension, as they often do in the presence of great, engulfing energies. //
Like wild fire set alight in a sea of moving clouds, like blood seeping into and smearing white fabric crimson red, was I losing my mind? To think that it was staring me down with all its unfaltering sureness. But that did not matter, as the atoms in my body have made up theirs - repelling in apprehension, as they often do in the presence of great, engulfing energies. //
Funny how irony works, I figured, for all I want is for it to give my fading facade of optimism a reboot, for it to anchor me down; love me steady, love me strong, love me whole again. |
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