Held Back

January 22, 2009
By Tiffany Graham, Newberg, OR

How long did the wind rest in my hair? How long did I sit there without a feeling toward likeness? How long was it? How long have I been gone? The emptiness that filled me so long ago fled, but was replaced by nothing. Simply nothing. Not to be healed, not to be filled, just to close up, as though love had never existed in that lifless pit.
Torment like I had never imagined would be possible to feel began to seep with agonizing deliberance into my soul. The spot that had just sealed itself to anything was ripped apart by the force and capacity of the blow.
Reality being worse then any nightmare I had ever had and worse then any feeling of emptiness, it filled the spot and spilled over to the world outside with nowhere to go. How could something of such horrific agony even be real?
“No…” the word was ripped from me, my mind as blank and thoughtless as my sightless eyes, staring endlessly into the darkness that had surrounded me, choking out any will to live that might have remained hidden in my heart. My voice was barley audible, but it cut through me like an arrow tearing away the brick wall that seemed to hold back reality.

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