Aid4Amara YouTube Channel

Friday 25 March 2011

Tomorrow


I had wanted it to be different.  But when I awoke it was as though the loneliness was entrenched, set in and my heart echoed endlessly through the emptiness.  I had wanted you gone, so that I might get my rhythm back, the ease of which being alone allows you.  Now that you’re gone anxiety has taken over and the quiet provides no solace, instead it torments me with its lack of anything.

However in this space there is now room for me.  I had been edged out, suppressed. Now that I have unfurled from the small space I had inhabited I feel unsure of myself and weak.  Anxiety reverberates through me, impossible to still.  I will wait it out.

Tomorrow it will be better.

Today is tomorrow.  And the quiet should be solace; the dark should temper the pain.  Instead it torments and yells filling the silent dark and sucking all the air from the room.  I want to embrace life, but how do I hug the nothingness?  I am not anchored in time or space in this moment and when I finally crash from exhaustion I will sleep fitfully only to awaken again in an unknown place, uncertain of where and when I am.  Perhaps even whom. 

Tomorrow it will be better.

There have been a few tomorrows before today and still it did not brighten.  Yesterday’s tomorrow attacked me with cactus needles, like my illness, invisible and yet incredibly painful.  Like a riddle that cannot be solved. 

The day before’s yesterday I was assaulted by the gaudy colours of the supermarket, only as time edged slowly forward my mind moved slowly away and a bubble filled the void between me and the world making it impossible to navigate without falling over and slurring.

Today’s tomorrow was filled with a kitten poo bed, a ceaselessly undulating floor that defied my balance and deafening all consuming migraines.  They have been taunting me for days, overburdening my senses so that each sense now feels taut like an overstretched old rubber band, cracking at the edges, ready to break and fly into the wall should I not keep the correct pressure of control on them.  Even then, the wall beckons.

Tomorrow it will be better.

5 comments:

  1. I love how you can express yourself in this way Marzi, heavy or not.

    ReplyDelete
  2. i love your writing too marzi...one of those deafening all consuming migraines is stopping me figuring out what today's tomorrow and half the other bits even mean, but i love it and will come back and read again. somehow there's something life-affirming about being able to make even the darkest times in some way beautiful with your words, touching another heart with words...XXOO

    ReplyDelete
  3. Thanks for taking the time to read and for the kind comments. It feels nice to share. <3 to you both xo

    ReplyDelete
  4. You have a gift with expressing yourself. I was engaged from the beginning and then this part, "They have been taunting me for days, overburdening my senses so that each sense now feels taut like an overstretched old rubber band, cracking at the edges, ready to break and fly into the wall should I not keep the correct pressure of control on them"...was like a crescendo! perfect, love. xx

    ReplyDelete

Thanks for reading. Please let me know what you think...