Loneliness

I talk to myself these days. It's become such an ordeal to reach for my cell-phone lying just across and dial the first entry in my phonebook. I know the call will not be answered. It used to be earlier; not now, certainly not. The long hours of the day seem to breathe venom in my skin. The ticking of the clock has begun counting the last remaining moments of my life away. The opaque blue outside the window has hung over me and inside there is tranquillity. A silence thats become almost a din now. From some place unseen, from some age unlived, I hear a voice so familiar, yet so clandestine. I generally give up in the nugatory attempts to recognize that voice. I don't care anyway, anymore....

The other day i walked down the spiral and found myself staring at the tesselated past that i had almost forgotten. The heap of clothes lay by my bed side, unminded for ages. They were all her clothes which she didn't take along. She was dressed in a white raiment, and oh yes, flowers, lots of them, roses, violets, lillies, mud, tears, death. She died right here, on this very bed she breathed her last. I was there, trying to snatch her away from the obvious, comforting her, consoling myself. Peace ruled her dead heart. I don't even cry these days. Perhaps I still do, I'm not sure. She had taught me how to feel.

The voice in my ears has faded down. Maybe she tried and failed yet again. How I wish I could tell her how much I loved her. Now it hardly matters, i think. Its just one more day down. I am growing impatient to meet her again. Her soft touch is caressing me to fall.....asleep.