it’s here. the day it never crossed my mind would come
not that I ever think of the future as something tangible,
but that day I hadn’t even conceived
has come
it feels… like nothing… sea level… snow level…
snowflake after snowflake – once a clear symbol of happiness and hope –
fall one after another and land softly on the lethargic concrete,
blanketing the crimson roofs in 10-centimetre cold emptiness
it didn’t feel like the downward-spiralling climax I’d have imagined, if ever asked to
it didn’t feel like… anything
that’s the worst part
you’d think I’d at least be able to grieve the disappearance of that final sign of
inner childhood
grieve and let the knot of pain stuck in my throat claw its way out into a final screeching release
to mark the grave of the one I’ve now lost forever
mark it in time and space, tie it to a specific moment and let it go forever
but there’s no grave
just falling snow
and lethargy beneath it
no grave for me to come back to,
to revisit distant memories of innocence and childlike wonder,
no grave to scream my regrets at,
to mark the moment in time when time stood still for the old me
I’ve become but a wandering gaunt shadow of doubts, anxieties and regrets
in search of a resting place
where I can crawl into a ball and regret the loss of endearing youth
it’s here. the day it never crossed my mind would come
the day when seeing falling snow brought me no more joy, nor respite, nor reprieve
just
falling snow
– Patricia