Allow me to be hollow.
Let me breathe without the stone
of my heart weighing down
inside my chest.
I want to be lifted by the air
and carried by the wind.
The cold will be smelled, not only
felt upon the skin.
The tears of salt will
trickle down my cheeks, but the stillness
will absorb my body. My heartbeat
slowing to an aching pace, at which
life feels most holy, wholesome, pure.
The stain of tears will be all that is
left upon me; the world's final mark.
Light will cover me, shield me.
At this time we all experience
the same thing. We feel gone, yet everywhere.
Fragmented, but somehow attached as a whole.
Together and apart.
Apart from the desolation.
Apart from pain.