Pain

The silence was all around her like a fog.  He had gone.

A few moments only had past or perhaps hours, perhaps days, it didn't matter.  She sat with her hands cupped in front of her, on her lap, her eyes staring but seeing nothing, her mind was nothing, nothing at all, just burst, disabled, all in a moment.  Her breath had stopped with her heart and she was inanimate, devoid of all, except the burn in her throat. A mere portrait of loss.

There must slowly have built a roar from somewhere, from her very toes perhaps, but she was aware of the grip it had only when it was within her stomach.  The sound of crashing waves, the tearing heat of fire inside her, moving to her arms and into her head and her mouth opened to scream.  No scream came.  Just a silent rush of air.  The exhalation of her dreams  and hopes, the very essence of her life, all out, all in one long breath.

He had betrayed her and her mind had fractured at that moment, a shattered mirror, distorting what she saw from then on.

Solitude

Solitude doesn't mean loneliness to me.  It is something craved - because a mind never seems still, nor the body.  Even when at rest there is always some movement, some thought that means almost constant alertness or tension that never quite relinquishes it's grip.

I'm thinking of that desire, a yearning wish: your mind singing out for the moment when it can release all the thoughts, memories, the hurts and confusions and for a while just tick over, like a clock in an empty room. Your body longs for a moment when your hands are at rest and your muscles melt into soft grass and feel the sun ooze onto your flesh or wind whip your flesh into a natural flush.  When the crushing talons of life release you for just a short while and you forgot to think.  That is what I long for.  Not love, not excitement, not adventure.  Just peace.

Time up

Inspiration today was the prospect of a retreat.  Merely the idea of what it could be like.