Six Years

Six years of blindness.
Do you know what that's like?
My hands search all around me for what I know is there.
What I want to know is there.
But it isn't.

Six years of being deaf.
Do you know what that's like?
Screaming for a reasponce from the person you know is there.
Who I thought was there.
But isn't.

Six years of a dark sleep.
Do you know what that's like?
Not wanting to wake from the dream that has rapidly turned into a nightmare.
Something I wanted to live in.
But I can't.

Six years of breaking reality.
Do you know what that's like?
Running from the death I never wanted to come.
Crying and screaming and bleeding when it came.
But now I have to live with this.

A day of relizing what came six years ago.
Do you know what that's like?
A rose laying in my palm, the pain of loss searing a hole through me.
Through my trembling fingers.
But now I have to close my hand.

A minute of relizing that she's never comming back.
Do you know what that's like?
A rose breaking my blindness, my deafness, my dreams.
"A rose by any other name would sound so sweet."
But tonight, it's the most bitter sound to ever whisper.

A second of living with this new relization.
Do you know what that's like?
With rose in hand I step into the light.
I can hear again, I can see again.
But do I want to?

Do you know what that's like?
Not knowing what to do, what you want, who you are?
Not knowing where to go?
With only a rose to remind you of the memory that left.

Noella, sleep for me.
Because I haven't gotten a wink since you left.
Like night turns into day, I've changed.
Six years of change.