The days continue to shoot out blank capsules and yet every morning I still put on my tattered bullet proof vest and tinted goggles. On Sunday in the place of my shields I wear a black velvet hat. In the event a bullet manages to slice through my heart I will tip my cap to its mother and say “nice try son but you can’t kill the dead”. I think about you, often but not because I want you back. I think about you because you impacted me and that impact was a defining moment in the end to this cycle I’ve been dragging my heart through. I shut the door and when the door shut all that was left was a memory that seems to fade with the dark nights as spring creeps closer to the hemisphere. As my “year of healing” is coming to a close I’ve decided to fully cocoon myself in the cold winds of winter and wash away this cumbered young spirit inside its cleansing rain. When the colors of spring flood the sky’s and the earth warms our frozen feet, I will – fly unchained toward my bliss.
but for now I exist inside the winds of winters as the transformation continues. “BANG”- another day greets me.