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When you burn a forest

Is it a column? A story? A poem? Whatever it is, it’s another writing by Adam.

Its been so been very long since I have last seen you. It appears as if you have changed. Its not right to call you a different person but I remember you as a different person. Many people have walked on the wrong side of the tracks before, but you have really crossed over to a new place. One which we have never seen before. Is this something that you really hold true to yourself or is it only a phase? If you look outside do you see the same flora and fauna? Does the hues of the sun seem new to you?

Our last conversation was so explosive. I did not want it to be our last, but you chose it to be so. It was only after that I had broke down and realized that it was gone. It had affected me deeply and I wept. Now I cannot weep for that anymore because I must begin again. I have to do so or I will not be able to tell myself I am worth it. The knife had been driven so deep, but I can remove it and stop the bloodshed. The wound is closing like a flower at night. It continues to seep but applying much pressure has stopped it from getting worse. The knife I can give back to you but I will not let you cut me again. It is your own knife after all and you caught me off guard when you plunged it deep inside. Was it a significant act you have accomplished for yourself? Did it make you feel whole or incensed when you did so? I am sorry but I did not quite see the look on your face. It seems as if it was the middle of the night but, it also was during the summer with so much light. Did it put a smile on your face to know you had landed it in the middle of my chest? Unlike anything before, I endured the loss: of blood, and a love.

I could not even go to a hospital because there was none around. The blood began to fill my mouth and I started to choke very badly because it became so thick. It tasted as if the blood would was never going to stop coming. I swallowed so much just desperately trying to get air to my lungs. It flowed freely and as fast as a torrent. It was unbelievable that so much blood could be expelled without actually dying. They say around 3 pints will put you underground. It was if I had spilled that many times over. Though I was terribly weak from it I managed to reach over and pull it out. The serration of it I had never seen. Whoever folded that steel was a dedicated blacksmith. Maybe you were the creator of such a well crafted blade. After removing a foreign object from your person it is best to be ready to apply pressure with an appropriate dressing. I had no materials of the sort. It just stayed there until a proper extraction could be made.

Many days it had been and still the knife was there. Was I wearing it as a sort of badge? A badge of sickness and despair? Maybe as a testament to what can happen in life? No one knows really. It was true what they say about the delirium after blood loss. Its difficult to walk, to breathe and you just stumble around blindly falling over objects. Like if you were drunk and in the dark. The pain was indescribable. It was as if all of your white bloods cells had desperately rushed to the wound and left a wake of total nerve destruction behind them. Leaving a burning sensation equivalent to full blown self immolation. Staggering in a haze of delusion and betrayal its unthinkable to see a solution remove the treachery. Sink or swim: but when you are already drowning inside yourself swimming seems far-fetched. I am so tired now as nothing has made sense for days and wandering for help is all I can do. I just want to sleep for so long but how can I rest peacefully when I am in so much pain?The minutes turn into hours and the hours to days and so on. Life just hangs by a thread as you can barely clutch it. I am missing the sublime days of the melancholic sun and clouds.The seagulls waking me up in the morning. The sea air hanging softly in the breeze burning slowly in land and disappearing up the mountains. The taste of an apple found by the graveyard. An unavoidable encounter with the neighborhood cat. These are things I crave and I remember during these times but yet I still cannot seem to even form a complete sentence. I must fix my situation because within minutes I will be dead.

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One comment

  1. Entyst Minut said on 2013-08-22

    A continuing open letter to Erika.