Before The Dark Takes Us

 

All the ifs and whys, the calls you didn't make, the messages, all the things you didn't say, you didn't do, they pile up. In the drawers of your mind, the rooms of your body. They whisper in your sleep, in your headphones when you're on the bus, on the train.

Chewing  slowly pieces of the present, numbing your senses.So what you gonna do? When you are alone, lying in the dark. Talking to the ceiling, drowning in the echo of your thoughts. What will you do?

Have you fallen in love with your reflection? How many mirrors and screens you have to break, before you see the truth? Still waiting for the rain. To give you all the answers. To wash away the silence, the mumble, the pain. Do you still pray? Do you still believe? In something? Someone? Is there anything left? Waiting for you, on the other side of your walls? Are there still words that have blood inside them? Is there any magic left?

Question marks are burning fuses. Maybe you are the explosion. Maybe the obstacle that needs to be removed. Or both. But do you have the spark to light them? Is there anything left? Or you are just a swamp? Dead for years, keeping up appearances.