journal · prose

The Morning

I drop harshly from what masqueraded as feather flight, thudding onto the cold, unyielding ground. You glance down at me, confused, wondering which path to take, what decision to make, torn between apprehension and desire. I gaze up at you, stricken by the shock, my mind shouting, desire! The sound deafens me, dulling my senses. I am convinced that you must hear it too, but from my lips there is only silence. I cannot speak. I am not able to tell you that I am no longer worried, that I would set each fear and trouble aside and am so willing, so ready, so longing to discover what we can be. Embrace me, I think. Let me be yours. I yearn the words, will them to be true with aching ferocity, hunger for you to say that you have chosen at last, that I am worth it, despite each misgiving, the unknown, your anxiety over an uncertain future. But there is only silence, slowly enveloping us.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s