the rhythm of loss

The phone doesn’t ring at its appointed time anymore. The habits of affection are broken. TV is a companion of a sort, meaningless noise occupying the now empty sound space.

Listening to music is dangerous; once special songs lie in ambush with bloody teeth. My bed is haunted. On the edge of awakening I scent and sense fading warmth. Innocent objects salt tender wounds.

I never expected to outlive so many people… family, friends, strangers who crossed my path briefly but affected me profoundly. I never knew how many lovesI would outlive. Ignorance is bliss.

I now know why solitary confinement is worse than dying.

</emo>

~ by Surreal on April 8, 2007.