Living in a Broken Dream
She clutched nothingness by the jugular while her meager vessel cut through the shimmering glass of this placid sea. Pouring out memories of reindeer hooves, campfire songs, chilly night swims, delicious sunsets, the kiss of a sunrise, and the unexplored passion of a first kiss she attempted to stay afloat above the throe. Her leaking paper cup wasn’t fast enough; spilling more back into the shell than desired, working feverishly she didn’t even notice the shore or the silhouette…a man reaching…reaching for her… I’ve been dealing with the lack of feeling lately. That is the best way to describe it. My safe harbor is my mind, which incidentally is also a war torn land where great battles are fought and often lost. However, I have found a safe haven amongst the mortar blasts, debris, death, and devastation…a comfortable sort of numb that allows me to contend with my hallow dreams and broken heart. Like a cracked vessel that stands in front of the light she is to reflect rather than turni...