A Trail Of Blood

Alone in a forest, surrounded by 100 year old trees.. each reaching out, blowing in me life.. still I cannot breathe. The water surrounds me, crisp and blue.. fresher than any other you could ever image, the liquid fills my mouth.. yet I cannot drink. I walk the midnight streets alone, no others are around.. not a word is spoken and yet I am unable to ignore the voices calling to me, demanding my attention. As I lay in my bed, void of clothing, all blankets thrown to the floor.. my window is wide open allowing the freezing air to rush in, I cannot cool down.. the walls are all closing in so fast. Alas, there she is.. grabbing my hand with her soft, gentle touch.. giving me back my piece of mind, allowing me to calm and collect myself. No sooner does she arrive am I able to put all the swirling thoughts to pad, my pen begins with determined conviction.. crossing, dotting, scribbling and scratching with no time for breaks. The words flow quickly, almost quicker than she is able to relay them.. once the dust settles and the storm clouds clear, I am left feeling myself again.. with all my pain and sorrow now a crime scene up and down the once clean pad, scrawled in a trail of her blood.