It looks like rust, it feels like rust and it leaves the stain of reddish-brown powder all over your hands if you dip them into your heart. If you sniff your rusted fingers you can smell the faint metallic decay swishing up your nose.
***
I am indelibly sad right now. If I could I would let it out in a torrent of silent sobs. But even sobbing has abandoned me. I just feel the deep well of sadness digging deeper into me. Prying old crevices with hot rusted tongs. Bringing forth the sum of all the pain felt in the past couple of years.
***
It was in a lecture earlier in the day that I was told something. To be a strong human being one needs to have a solid foundation. One needs to develop depth and look winds of change in the eye. It was inspiring. The lecture.
My mind is working in a disconnected array of thoughts.
I cannot pinpoint the why a voice so deeply cherished and a person so deeply loved can over the years turn me to a beam of rusted iron. Sitting on the footpath, wet and slick with a oozing reddish-brown paste; ready to ooze floating flakes as I dry in the sun.
***
Maybe, my time to move on has finally come. Some things cannot be understood.
Maybe after all the rust is done away with, I'll still find a scrap of me solid to take on more weathering. Some things are bound to survive.
Maybe the festering guilt has to be dealt with love. For myself. And the will to survive to become a better person. Some things should never be given up.
***
I can see the words floating in front of my eyes now.
Time to go.
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