Walk to Wild Abandon

Come, take a walk with me.

Have you ever laughed so much you felt as though you couldn’t possibly be any happier than in that exact moment? Remember that time, think it, feel it. Can you feel that in the pit of your stomach? That aching, longing, wild abandon?

Abandoned house. Can you see the door left ajar? The curtains strewn haphazardly like there is nothing of value. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Death and destruction is all that’s left here. This place, this time. You will be left wanting. Elevate your existence, swish comes the sublime evolution.

To evolve is to grow, develop, change and progress. Searching, always searching. Knowing there’s more yet not understanding. The importance lost beneath a tirade of misconstrued evidence and cultural values. Meaningless squander from an unknown existence pounding upon your beliefs as though there is no tomorrow. Never has been. Never will be. You will be left waiting.

Waiting, always waiting. What will happen? Disoriented, allured by the gentle hum of silence. Aaah, silence, finally. Sometimes my mind screams so loud with distorted murmurings that I cannot breathe. Don’t want to. Mind trashed with unwarranted thoughts. Unimportant things add clutter that cannot be unwound.

Take the edge of the string and give it a pull. I dare you. See what happens. Demolished room littered with a half finished canvas. Charcoal and irony splattered with paint. Famous faces watching, always watching. Swish goes the door. You should have closed it when you came in.

Into this house you thought desolate and cheap. Addicted to adrenalin cursing through your limbs your mind overflows like the salt lapping the rocks on the shore. Mother nature unleashes her fury on your heartbreak. Seek those words of comfort, yet none may ever come to this place.
Place to be alone, so very alone. Just the way you like it. Indulge your sensory explorations if you can tell them apart. The starkness of sensuality hanging on your walls. Question your subtlety. Your life scribbled carelessly where you feel safe. Your sanctuary. Don’t let it hamper your creative being. What you feel could be your haven might not necessarily be true.

Truth is omnipresent yet elusive and unsure. Whose truth do you speak? There’s still time, pull the curtains so no-one can peak. Straighten the mat and tear the sheets from your furniture. Clear out the dust. Embrace yourself one again. White stockings to gaze, lift the brush. And me? Don’t worry.

I’m everywhere, i’m nowhere, all places in between. Unfinished work. Frustrations. Put the brush down. Now stop.

What?

Walk to Wild Abandon

Brooke Michelle

Joined May 2009

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