self tailoured hell

as i awake a thought comes to me , spurred on by a dream. do i go about by usual daily business ? or shall i break the mould? would anyone notice if i was gone, for more than a moment. the world will turn without me , which ever path i choose today. abscence past and forgotten when next day dawns.

so i move forward, take a chance. no bags to pack, only an uneasy sense of freedom.

heart beats fast in trepidation. board train coffee in hand as if an everyday occurrence.

people unknown surround me. i dont even touch their concious. though i am present, invisible am i , as they are to me. their significance far more important than i suppose.

sitting in the opposite direction to the movement of the train, i see where i have been.

farewell to a forced youth , clung onto and created by age. reality streams through me embedded with inertia.

an elderly man watches me from the corner with a knowing glance. can he read me?

what thoughts does he place within me. my mind battles with barriers against this, but relents to inevitable badgering. the glance broken , newspaper page turns. its over, though it has irrevocably changed me. now half in panic, half in revelation i dismount, unsteady, bounding.

i enter history refreshed. along a leafy canal tow path. weeping willows look as if they drink from the dark green mellow waters, they whisper words unheard to me. there is not a sound. i pass by two couples entwined . motionless i am invisible once more . no reflection to be seen of me. each bird seems to stop and stare. i come to rest at a wrought iron bridge.

now a sound comes from the rear of my spine , more deafening and oppressive than i will ever feel or hear again. shriller than a strangled vixen. its the sound of a soul crying out. my neglected soul. a pain harsher than any neuralgia pushes upward toward the sky. as it leaves me everything that surrounds is obliterated by light and heat of unearthly exsistence. i fall to the ground exhausted , a mere husk.  voices twitter in my mind like mini tornadoes.

i have let myself free, to begin again , a chance for someone else? within another?

at peace with what has been relinquished the lesson of life learned . too late. time is not without end. how it speeds and disipates before we can catch it.

board a slow train backward. a hesitation , a wrong turn , a regret. such small blunders

culmunate in the punishment of monotiny. as i return i wander will anyone bother to notice at all ...................................