My nose and mouth feel full of metal and I keep sleeping.
The saga continues even as I change position each time my chest rises -I am trying to gain new perspective, learn more with every intake, every stumble, every moment that passes me by.
Death seems all around me - inviting me with headaches and tears as a platform to look from, Inviting-as a humble resting place.
The fallen flesh beneath the earth, scattered in the sky, the stones resting in yards - It is as if these stones lie on the chests of those of us left behind.
And somberly he has told me the story at least a dozen times, different with each memory, his friend dead too early by suicide. He words fall as tears should leaving him guilty with life.
Posted by jackie colburn at August 26, 2007 02:39 PM