A note on the floor seaks to explain an open door.
Heart skips a beat, reading the words scribbled with ink.
Tears run down the cheek, dripping onto paper beneath.
Memories flash before the eyes, like vivid visions of fantasy.
Over and over, slower and slower.
Knees press into carpet, as the legs buckle.
Emptiness once more, as darnkess begins to encompas the floor.
Lost in the cold echoes of torrential reality, alone again, and forever it shall be.

Your arrival was magical to me.
You never said much, or listened too well.
Some days you would wander into my room, just to lay near my bed.
Plopping down onto the ground, quietly laying still.
Somehow your silly visits made me smile, every single time.
Everyday, exactly at 5, you would come into my room and whine.
Out of everyone's room you always chose mine, because I was so easily convinced.
You just wagged your tail and I knew, you wanted some **** food.
I think of your puppy dog eyes, guilting me into yet  another treat.
You are my best friend and best dog; you always will be.
I have loved you so much.
You have changed, gotten old, age has finally caught up with us.
Your fur is patchy and grey, your eyes wander and gaze.
I know I don't have much longer, I feel the day drawing near.
This is not fair, I do not want you to go.
I have lost so much already.
Please.
Muddy.
Please don't leave me with another empty space.

I'm alone again.

This happens a lot.

No one around...

...just me and my thoughts.

Life seems empty.

Moments seem grey.

My heartache worsens with each passing day.

****, film, music; imperfect distractions from this tragic reality.

They tell me the war is won, that I was some kind of chosen one.
I do not feel like the victor.
There lies this inescapable feeling, a hollow ache inside.
The pills were tough, but I have felt worse.
Beams fired towards me as I lay beneath, as my heart gently beats.
I lost no hair.
I lost no weight.
My face and skin stay clear of grate.
Children, Elders, families, they all gambled with  surgeries fate.
What makes me different?
Why do I remain so free?
Why does this victory seem so empty to me?
That little girl who wheeled on by, why was she the failure compared to I?
My heart weighs with guilt for winning a war I did not even feel.
Every week.
Every day.
Every minute.
Why did it have to be me, crossing the lonely line back into reality?
It should have been Jeana, Stephan, Jamie...
It could have been anyone.
Anyone but me.

Red and yellow, gliding through the sky.
Just a little biplane trying to find meaning in life.
Nowhere to land, since the Earth left so long ago.
Without a warning, no hesitation, Terra herself left the little airplanes show. High above what he once loved, flying through the blue sky.
Through gray stormy clouds, lightning and thunder, the plane flies all alone. Nothing under.
No touchdown connection.
No radio tower to call.
Just the empty sky.