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Sitting this desk, letting my mind wander to so many wrong roads taken to all the time and love and energy wasted, to what lies ahead, to the night and the cold, remembering the sun on my face, the feeling of being cursed to never see it again, thinking aching wanting, hearing a lone coyote call was it in the night or in my mind as it echoes over the frozen ground wishing this damn chair was my old saddle, remembering a better time in my life a quieter time, when my bear slept, and now he consumes more of me daily till I fear naught will be left of me the next time he slumbers. My spirit has become tormented, and my balance almost completely gone, I wonder sometimes if I am not totally mad, I wonder if this nightmare will ever end, but like any animal I shake off the cold center my mind and continue on my trek of life, needing only food shelter and companionship, like any animal isn’t the last why all of us are ultimately here, for all other venues of connection have failed, and the night continues on as do my thoughts and my memories, and the ghost return to play in my mind. 3 more hours and I can go home and the sweet release of sleep, until the night another moon beckons me arise, I have become a dark thing a thing of darkness.
The madness grows more intense when it’s quiet
