Scribbled Thoughts

20:73

Writing used to be easier,

time more eager to be found,

a pen more easy to flow across

paper. Restrictions of

interactions, limited people

to care for, a constant,

lonely ache desperate to

ignore, with creations of

worlds and words to delve into.

I found you, and finally

experienced love besides

family love. You completed

me, took away that empty

ache. Life with you

began, our life, full of

independence and struggle.

Exhausted days to build

our home, existence

together. Writing was harder,

almost forgotten. Now

I am here, in lockdown,

no exhaustion except one

self-inflicted. Time is

available, but writing is

still hard. Dreaming of

the life we are still

building, harder to create

the life of characters.

Have you killed my

motivation with love and

acceptance? Or have I

just changed too much,

and struggle to recognise

my worlds anymore.

20:72

Once again you paint

a beautiful vision, one

free of struggle, with

happiness in work, plentiful

in wealth, rich in materials

and perfect in decoration.

Our worries will be gone,

everything will be easy,

and, best of all, we

will still be together.

Those hopes are dashed

be a miscalculation,

work and wealth not

so easy to change.

Life is struggle, it

doesn’t end, and silly

fantasies will only

disappoint, if you believe

too hard. We still

have each other, truly

rich for that. Holidays

and freedom would be

empty without you, so why

dream so hard for change?

Struggle on. Perhaps life

will get easier. Perhaps

it will get harder. But stay

with me and I will always

be content. I will continue

to struggle on, rather

than lay down in the

mud and drown into

despair.

20:71

A world forced into

isolation is finally opened

to them again. Cherry

blossoms falling like snow,

decorating the empty

landscape. Darkness no longer

grips their existence,

forcing them out of the

sun in order to live.

Witness the world as

a still-shot, nothing

moving, no creature alive

to disturb. The world

has finally returned to

them, but they

are still all alone,

with rays now burning,

instead of the sheltered

darkness in working years.