CatherineRain

Adrift alone, your hope not bright nor dark, you pull inside those fears and stand up straight to face the day. You walk with gravel buried in your heart, numb and used to damage as the world; you live and you will go. You face the sun and at once it floods upon you, rinsing out the ash: a rain of warm gold leaving you clear as crystal and light. Not a strand of hope, but a blanket more solid than hope can weave. Not pushing back the darkness, but crumbling it before you.

A quiet full. In white you see what's there become empty, or else you crowd between the lines. In the darkness, you know not the extent. You pray that more lies beyond. For what dreams would show the very edge of possibility, and stay fantastic?

This room so filled with heaviness, silence and damask. This room of a desperate tradition clawing at my throat, leaves me gasping for air as I tick away. This room, draped in colors I daren't admit belong to my past, burgundy and soured cream, the dried lumps of sugar falling into my tea. I scream and rattle the boards as I go down.