Decay

Distant sounds of laughter echo down the hallway and fall like rain on the window of my darkened heart

Fading memories of joyous moments once shared now become shadows that dance upon my skin

I allow this shroud of sorrow to wash over me and encompass me tightly

These moments of blackened existence create a stillness unlike anything else, muted and aching

Looking into the past and seeing the sorrows never really lets them die away into distant memory

They fester and become putrid, causing all that it touches to become covered in decay

As the decomposition of the sorrow progresses I become dimmer and turn to inward reflection

This decay though almost unbearable play an important part in the ability to find growth

The rapid momentum of our day to day circumvents the ability to truly be capable of mourning

Eyes down as we stare aimlessly at our screens, seeing glimpses of perceived happiness

Walking through a field of emotionally empty bodies we have lost to ability to recognize each other

The darker side of things become taboo and the skills to embrace the decay become lost to us

What is to become of us as a people if we lose our ability to properly mourn our sadness?

Connected but incapable of understanding one another will we become lost to ourselves?

Without true deep heartache we can never truly comprehend great love for each other or for ourselves

Because without decay there is no growth.

Be still, and let the sadness come

Recognize its purpose and make room for a new birth of something beautiful, a reason for the loss.