Memories

MEMORIES

Tracing the star-studded indigo dome, the sounds of passing vehicles and overhead engines faded to a distant hum. I focused on a set of bright stars, trying to identify them through misty eyes. I blinked furiously, fighting back, but they refused to submit.
The cool tiles against my back were unwelcome yet comforting. My breath was uneven; short, shallow, deep, long. Blood pumping through my veins pulsed erratically, I felt hot, yet cold and warm.

My thoughts strayed to that place where I did not want them to go, the scenes flooding my senses. Pictures flashed across my eyesight, laughter within my ears, scents overtook other smells and the feel of our rough and tumble games swept throughout my body.
My shoulders shook softly and sadly, mists threatening again, yet I fought against it all, breathing deeply and evenly and closing up that place once more. I swiped angrily at my cheeks and sat up, the lights of the city that shone over the houses reflected in my brown orbs.
Gazing across the roofs at silent gardens and dark windows, the breeze tickling my hair across my face, I closed my eyes and breathed the night air, taking it into me as though it would bring me peace within. A light spray of rain came with the breeze, warm, yet somehow cold connecting with the coldness in my being. My pentacle glowed inconsistently and remained dull.

I sprawled back against the tiles, watching as scattered storm clouds glided along the glittering surface, blotting out the tiny flames. Faces floated above me; smiling, laughing, saddened, upset, gentle, loving, caring, all familiar, all the same. The flimsy wall bent as its contents fought to be released and I struggled against it, reprimanding, determined and confused.

Now I gaze blankly at the whirling waves, sprays decorating my features, thoughts intermittent with the incoming tide. The blowing of the ocean wraps my mind and I begin to spiral towards the wall. I inhale the salt whorls and push for the surface, denying myself. I concentrate on the sinking grains beneath my soles and cling to the present. The wall continues to strain against those thoughts as the waves crash against it and I vainly attempt to reinforce them with my wilting will; declining, rejecting and depriving my soul of the agony.

And still, I battle my own will and feelings. Refusing to give in and let go, refusing to confront and deal, refusing to acknowledge any of it. But I am adamant not to let my heart and mind triumph, or to let my spirit have peace at a cost I am unsure of. Tormented and hopeful with these contemplations, depression and hope a dancing couple, I war with my inner self.
I fight a losing battle, a battle I know I cannot last, a battle I know I have to end. And yet I crouch with bricks in hand, at the base of a broken wall, trying in vain to confine the memories. Filled with an intense sadness.