Alone and Alive

I wanted to mention that you were translucent to me, but how does one mention that one is crystalline without implying that they are hollow and empty? Because that is not what I mean. All I am trying to say is that I can feel your heart fall and rise, broken and heavy, see your soul through your eyes, clear and weighty. You are alone and alive. And if I were to tell you of this, I worry you would become less easy to see, like a web in the trees, or a note in a beat.

I can tell you that there is no relief and up until recently, I’ve been searching for release and for pieces of me. At the mouth of the river God sat with me, I remember him telling me that I was a puzzle piece; warned that I would never feel entirely complete. I wanted to bring you down to your knees, bring ease to your grief and soften your pleas, but I am a gustier breeze, harder to steer and easy to leave.

You wade through the night, in search of the day, you dance at the sun in hope of the rain. I cry out for your name, but I am the sound of your vein and less easy to hear. You are one stroke of a painting, not to say that you are idle nor futile, but more sole and awake. I wanted to tell you to stop moving around, to rest with the days and fall into the sound. For the blaze will follow and burn each and every phase and you will not find what it is that you wish to attain.

These are the things that I was holding back from you. It is not that I wish to watch you destruct, but that I know you will learn all of this soon. Just know that I am here waiting for both you and the sun to arise, for the moon to subside. Please know that we are both Alone and Alive.

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