Beware of Darkness

beware of darkness s

What can I do to contain the presence that isn’t here?  Take my fear, tie it into knots around his neck, raise the window, and let out the dark as his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream?

The door opens and absence returns.  I wash everything again, dripping silence onto the bare floor where I stand unsupported.  The stains won’t come out of the air.  They remain, unmoving, like the clock whose numbers have blurred into thick ghostlights.  Unclean, these words piled up like dirty dishes, this blackness that sucks all reflections into the other side of the mirror.

beware close up 1s

Is dead ever really dead?  Is dead ever the ending of anything until all beginnings cease?  Can the universe uncreate being, collapse time beyond infinity, disintegrate energy into its opposite?  Become a vortex spinning itself into a before that never

existed,

unmattering–

gone, gone, gone?

beware close up 2s

For dVerse prosery, where Bjorn has given us a phrase from Maya Angelou: “his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream”.

 

31 thoughts on “Beware of Darkness

  1. “Is dead ever really dead?  Is dead ever the ending of anything until all beginnings cease?  Can the universe uncreate being, collapse time beyond infinity, disintegrate energy into its opposite?” Yes. It can and does. Without sounding too woowoo, let’s say my experience assures me that this is so. Your post hit a personal nerve, but I am beyond that now, gratefully.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Interesting metaphysical musings. The “punches” leaving absences stand out. George knew those places were better stayed away from, whatever form they exist/don’t exist in.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I love those words “piled up like dirty dishes”. This seemed to move from the banal reality of loss to an existential enquiry. I’m left moved and thoughtful. A different pace to most of what I’ve read today.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thanks Sarah. This came from a free write I did a few days ago that seemed to fit seamlessly with the provided words. The questions I have these days are also piled high.

      Like

  4. I like the artwork you used to illustrate your prose, Kerfe. Both capture the feeling of a ‘presence that isn’t here’. I like the Lady Macbeth scenario of washing everything again and the stains that won’t come out of the air. Good question: Is dead ever really dead? Like Sarah, I also love ‘piled up like dirty dishes’ and agree about the different pace.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. I love the questions and the layering–the washing, the silence that drips, the stains that don’t come out. . .is dead ever really dead? Something I think about–it goes with my time obsession. I enjoyed this.

    Liked by 1 person

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