A part of my mind has formed that wasn’t there before. I refuse to process, scan, to try to grasp and discern, to categorize and evaluate.
An insight, a step, a thought
A truth, a feeling, a song
A wish, a look, a tear
A fear, a breath, a path
And something is leaving me, something soft. An essential something. How do I hold onto it? I never force what refuses to stay.
No anger, no demand.
Only a quiet, open hand.
(Now that the rooms are empty, I don’t know how to feel. Relived? Disappointed? Frightened? Exhausted? Excited?
Hope shines through the windows, but in the shadows, the memories linger.
What lies beyond can be anything. But I know I will never forget.)
Zrak
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