Impossibilities

Emotions and dreams coming forth as the unknown

Impossibilities

 

Swirls and colors fill my head making it spin like a top. My eyes can’t focus on one specific spot and my head starts to hurt with the concentration. I blink and turn my eyes away from the strange painting hung like a dead fish on the cold wall of the museum. New colors and shapes move through my mind as I move on to the next piece of artwork. It feels me with boredom and I find myself glancing at my shoes. Light blue tile contrasts with my shiny red Mary Jane’s. An idle frog floats across my vision on a lily pad amongst these water colored tiles. A dead fish is tugged at by the string tied to the frog, a needle harpooned through the mouth of its cold corpse. I step away from the sight, mustn’t damage my Mary Jane’s. 

A horse, or what remains of one, brokenly gallops mechanically throughout its decorated prison. Finding itself trapped at one edge and frustrated, turning to the other edge. The artist has captured whatever feeling held him at this time perfectly. Surely, this reaches many others in such a trance. A malevolent laugh finds its way through my lips. My hand goes to hover along the art, the horse pausing briefly to study the fingers before dismissing me and continuing its pointless stride. My hand flutters back to my side, resting aloft the satin fabric of my black and red skirt that hugs my paper white thighs and coming up to brush a bit of dust off the black button up blouse only suitable for excursions such as these. Such extravagant measures taken for such a meaningless venture.

A cold breeze tugs at me, enticing me to turn to the center piece of the room.

Such a strange thing to put in a museum. In the cold crystal case, standing out amongst the dead fish lining the walls. Such a delicate thing, such a strong essence. Hovering between the top and bottom, a heart. Nothing artistic about it, but in every way it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve yet to see today. Beating in rhythm to my own frigid heart, looking lost without the blood of its purpose.

Here lies the Essence of our father

Gold, shining lettering blazes at me from a plaque. Whoever created this place lies here. Long dead, but living on forever with his children. Whether literal of figurative I do not know, but poetic none the less.

The heart holds my gaze a moment more but hardly anything holds it longer than that. I turn away and find myself suddenly lost. Falling into a blue-gray abyss, and engulfed in a surge of emotions I’ve long been unfamiliar with. My own heart finds itself jump started, fragmented shards gasping as they shake away their cobwebs and ice and come together to pound urgently. My eyes find themselves drowning as an ocean of saltwater finds its forth. A sense of warmth worms itself along my being, working its way into places long forgotten. Air finds its way from my lungs, through my throat, molds itself into a name. His name.

It’s a choked sound, a sound I never thought I’d hear myself say again. It’s a question, doubt of my own eyes, doubt of the awareness that has suddenly come to pass. Dizzy. Like the painting. Though now the room twirls, like a gentle dancer sending the world into chaos. The air that had molded itself now becomes dead, like the fish. Tugging at my throat, no idle frog to pull it along. Lungs fighting the air.

A struggling mind struggles with impossibilities. Refusing acceptance. Praying for reality.

“He’s here.” The words fall flat. There is no acceptance. There can’t be. So many dark days spent in denial only to finally gain deadening acceptance of reality.

“He’s gone.” There is my truth, there is the only truth.

“But he really is here.” My mind and soul rage a battle within. Tearing at one another for reality. What is reality?

Contact shocks me. Electricity soars through my veins, bringing life to death. Fingers on my arms, touching my black button-up blouse. Warm, beautiful, succulent lips bring flavor to my tongue. Mind and soul fall silent. Reality or not is no longer a concern. The abyss consumes me. Dead air is stripped away. Light overcomes me.  

As soon as it’s begun, it’s over. The contact is gone. The electricity finds a home and settles in. New air courses through desperate lungs. Warmth remains. Burning skin underneath a ruffled blouse. Flavored lips. Impossibilities.

“I’m sorry.” My ears ring. Remnants of words echo into my head. Confusion ensues.

He spoke. I grasp the clarity of the message. Those words from those beautiful lips. Saying sorry. Why would there ever be an apology? But isn't that what I always needed? 

Finally my mind kicks into gear, pushing me into the moment. Expecting me to participate. Words! it commands.

“Why?” An almost appropriate answer. Other responses quiver upon my tongue. As they wait my eyes explore features previously locked in the dungeons of my mind. The hair, the hair my fingers used to dance though. Blonde with sun and short. Framing features sharp enough to cut myself on. Beautiful lips I crave to caress. I catch myself falling into that abyss of blue. Eyes I knew I’d never see again. Time gone since they’d fallen into mine.

 I watch them fall now, and I let myself fall again, taking me away from everything I thought I had been to a place where I feel warm again. Unconscious hands float to trace those sharp features. Soft and warm to the touch. Electricity stirs again at the tips.

“Because I love you.”

Dizzy mind. Dizzy heart. Lips caress. Are these my impossibilities? 

Author's Note

I lost someone I love, having them back would mean the world to me. But it seems an impossibility.

Reviews

[Dhaye]

Wow! I rarely read stories and essays for I prefer poems only. But this one has captured my attention- from the title, the lead , the content and the ending. Tip to tip, I am mesmerized by this work. Impossibilities create possible situations in one's mind... because often a desperate heart tend to rely on his dream. So deep but emotional.
A suggestion: piece artwork.--- piece of artwork

Thanks for sharing this. :)

[PossiblyAlice]

I'm honored you chose to read my piece :) You captured what was trying to convey perfectly. I will consider artwork, that would be an interesting task to say the least :)

[KeeD]

This story lacks in no sense. From the wonderful imagery to its content and message. This might sound a tad bit creepy, but almost everything I say sounds creepy. I woke up an hour ago its 9;30 am in India. Just before waking up I remember the dream I was having. A girl that looked really similar to the one in your profile picture and I were walking a road i've never been on before or seen. We encountered a situation with a bunch of trouble making teens and for some reason we talked our way outta it. I carried the girl on my back and we walked outta there happy and together. Then I had to wake up.. But I wasn't willing to let go of this girl so I tried to put myself to sleep but I couldn't really see her face anymore.. I lost something in a dream today and the pain felt real. Through this piece I can imagine the pain you've been dealing with through your loss and how you've coped so well with it. "hugs" On reading this for the second time I can truly appreciate every detail on how to restart after you lose something, my favorite part was how you describe your body switching back on again. The ending was so strong and it proves to me you're an amazing writer. Looking forward to reading more of your work.

[PossiblyAlice]

Thank you! Don't worry, it's very difficult to creep me out, your dream fascinates me. Dreams in general, in fact, this piece is based off a dream of mine. The pain in dreams often relays to pain we experience in life, often worsening it. It seems you've really understood my intention with this piece, thank you for taking the time to read it. :)

And if you were wondering, I am the girl in my profile picture, curious that you would dream of someone that looks like me.

[KeeD]

Yeah quiet a coincidence as I had the dream almost 2 hours ago and here you are adding me and then I read this poem about coping with loss. I'd also like to say you have a really good head on your shoulders; "The pain in dreams often relays to pain we experience in life, often worsening it."

[PossiblyAlice]

There is no coincidence my friend :) And thank you for saying that, I often feel I've lost my head.

[The 13th Eros]

There are realms of wonder that can reconnect hearts and minds in distance. Your beautiful confessions are overwhelmingly bittersweet in their longings. Look deep within, dear poet. Everything you search for is there, etched in memory.

[PossiblyAlice]

Thank you :)

[Epipsychologist]

Beautiful, sad, and confusing, like life.

[Nathan Mann]

This one really pulled my heart strings. Definitely worth the read.