Sing Softly the Song of Suffering
by Chelsea Moore
November 15, 2018 | Creative Writing
I closed my eyes and ran. Where to you may ask? Well, to the end of the earth as I knew it, to the brinks of my existence. Escaping outside the walls of my mind, fleeing from the captivating nature of your eyes, the quiet scream from your soul, the wild instinct of your heart. I have been bound for decades by the soft sound of your lustful voice, entranced by the glide of each meditated step you take, the sweet scent that lingers, tainting the air that you so briefly inhabit, intoxicating my mind. I ran, faster than my lungs would allow.
Pumping blood through my veins, matching the beat of my step, a rhythmic escape, a song sung by fear itself. My eyes, gripped together denying myself the sweet pleasure of watching your silhouette dissipate into the darkness. Though my body has fought your grip, my being is consumed by the departure of you, the air I breathe is thick with your absence.
Have you ever been so entranced by someone that life itself seems so frail, that the swift gesture in their step could turn everything you hold dear into rubble? That who you are and who you aspire to be is somehow them; they hold the formula to your entire self and aren’t even aware. Somehow standing in front of them, staring into their precious eyes, filled with secrets, you see clearly.
I can’t seem to find any answers, but when your arms hold me, you latch onto my soul and guide it far away from my troubles. He is the magic that dances in the autumn leaves and the song that whistles in the wind. He slithers on the floor searching for his next victim; a viper with venom dripping from his mouth, a torture I can’t help but indulge in. Swaying back and forth, my heart beats louder with every grip of his hand, with every breeze from his lips. I am entranced by the words you have yet to speak and the thoughts you have yet to think. The only book I’ll ever read is the story of your soul, the pages riddled with the quiet moments of you.
Ripping, tearing, pain. A split instant of sheer helplessness. The same way you slithered into my life you ripped the fangs from my frail heart and abandoned me. Faster than the beat of my heart you came and went. Speechless, for you were the only words I chose to utter. Deaf, for the only sound worth listening to was the lustful whisper of your voice. Blind, for the only being worth my gaze was that of your silhouette. Acid, searing the rims of my eyes, hoarse from screaming your name. Sing softly a sweet lullaby as I drift into the moonlight and find rest in despair.