Where Else

I don't like this, this ever-growing cycle of negativity. It's ugly and it's cold.

But there's no other way. I can't say how much it hurts. I can't say how each beat labours against my chest. I can't say how it feels to lose that breath, that life. I can't make it go away. I can't give some reason, some meaning behind it. I can't make it stop.

So this is my canvas. These words are all I can do.

Nothing can stop this repulsive, retching spew of of ice and burden and evil. Nothing can quell this shivering fear.

So where else shall I do this? Where else but here.

Neglect

My hands travel across familiar keys and my mind sinks into this familiar page as it sings apologies to the non-existent spirit that lives in its backdrop and in each letter and each pixel. It stays still, unresponsive but I know it will accept this gift of words, my offering, my plea for forgiveness. Still, I feel the flush fingers of guilt creeping up my back to circle my neck and force penance for my neglect.

But they ask no reason. They pray no explanation for the absence of my phrases.

I beg and crawl and beseech them to let me tell all, to let me draw the map causes and consequences. But they are not open to my voice.

Instead, they tap their nails on my skin and they wait for their message to sink in.