The Air Was Dark And Reached Forever Poem by Amy Stuart

She was crying.

The tears cascading,
Down both her cheeks.
Like water flowing free of a dam.
Hot and salty,
They flowed freely
Only to be roughly brushed away
With one smooth movement of a too cold hand.
No matter how unwelcome they were,
More continued to flow, a river.

Not that she could help it.
It was as if her eyes and tears had a mind
All their own.
That her very own feelings and emotions,
The two things that should be uniquely hers,
Had temporarily left her.
As if they were acting independently from her body.

Silently she sat.
Letting the emptiness envelope her body,
Seep deep inside he bones, her soul.

It was quiet.
Too quiet,
Almost unnatural she thought.
Through straining, she could not detect,
Even the faintest hint of sound
To suggest a life outside of hers existed.

This was how she spent all of her days and nights.
Alone.
With nothing but the deep ache inside the cavity
That was one point her chest.
It wasn’t anymore.
No part of her physically existed anymore.
What was the point of arms or legs,
Hands or feet,
If they were never to be used?
Surely there must be some reason for having limbs,
And organs,
A reason for functioning.
Yet alone and isolated, she began to doubt her own reason for being.

This was all she had ever known.
No happy memories to look back on.
No better life to miss.
The quietness and solitary companionship
Was all she had come to know.
It was not as if she had once had a perfect, happy existence
Only to have to taken away in one cruel swoop of fate.
No.
Not her.
Aching emptiness was all she had and would ever experience.

Gently, her sobs,
Tampering off now,
She reached for the knife.
The blade glistening and shimmering in the pale moonlight,
Almost like tiny droplets of water
Skirting down a stain glass window.
Quietly, the blade did its most wonderful and final act.

Her tears fell no more,
And once again,
The ache of emptiness and isolation overtook her soul.