The Severity of Sadness

[Gemini Cricket]

The Severity of Sadness
by Gemini Cricket

I forgot to get out of bed this morning.
The view of my ceiling kept me intrigued.
In my mind, I painted a version of ‘The Creation of Adam’ on it.
Only this time, god’s finger was pressed against my chest keeping me from getting up.
I think on happier times, but have forgotten what it was about them that made me smile.
I close my eyes, but I am still awake and the gloomy black beneath my lids beckons me to join it forever.
My body makes me stand, my will concedes.
The bathroom light is green and no one looks attractive in its mirror.
The sad, quiet man watches me and wonders when the last time I shaved was.
I grip the cables connected to my chest that lash me to the floor.
They never give.
I made them tight.
If tears could cut your face, my expressions would wear terrible scars.
I wash my skin, hoping that the soap would take the worry away.
Shall they go down the drain?
They should, they don’t.
Someone smiling watches me from a television screen, as the glow turns me to blue.
My dog looks at me between his paws with eyes that mimic my mood.
I have nothing left to give you my friend, I’m sorry I broke you.
I broke us both.
I watch him eat and wish that I, too, had only fifteen years to live.
Thirty years is too long to wait for the darkness to fade.
Sunshine clutches a wall near the couch, I wash my hands with it.
A cloud grips the blessed bright and the darkness wins.
I sit and wait for the return of the sun.
It stays gone.
I knew it would.
The phone rings like thunder through a naked valley.
It is a friendly voice, an invitation to come out and play.
Denying the request is easier than missing the fun we had after it is over.
Lying fetal on a couch, I watch the carpet grow weeds.
The walls grow bark and the ceiling becomes littered with leaves.
I am cradled by a giant pair of arms that hold me tightly to a warm body.
“Don’t give up.” The voice says fondly, quietly, without desperation.
“I won’t.” I say, I always say.
The room returns, the forest fades and my feet find the floor.
I throw on a coat and find a cap.
I see the door that confines my world.
I turn the knob.
“Outside?” I ask.
My dog wags what’s left of his tail and follows me out.
He watches my back sprout wings and my feet leave the ground.
The tears flow now, but this time they don’t hurt me.
An unfamiliar smile graces my face.
It’s just the front porch, but it’s a start.