Drebbles 4: Accident

Huge raindrops splashing on the windshield. Why did I take this route? I can’t see a thing. The steering wheel starts shaking. My life flashes by in front of me... I retake full control, completely vigil, safely crashing into the roadside mud, seeing my front left tire fly across the horizon.

You told me life is so short, too short to miss our opportunities, to make the wrong decision. For a moment, I was on the verge of death. You were the first thing I thought about, and you would have been the last.

I made up my damn mind.

Drebbles 3: Scarf

It was that night. Walking the streets with a friend, with you, looking at the Christmas lights with awe.

You give me your glasses, we laugh; everything becomes so distorted and shaky. You put your scarf around my neck, binding me, as much as your scent I’m inhaling does. White, so soft, so close to me. I’m feeling its warmth, and now the warmth of your hands. We are so dangerously close.

My heart told me that a bitter ending was to bring a new beginning, that there is an option, a choice resulting in a happy end.

It lied.

Drebbles 2: Freefall

It was a nice February day, with bonfires, smoke and fun in the air. It could have easily been one of the best days of my life, but all my negative strings were still in the depths of my brain, stretched to their limits.

Then I saw you for the first time ever. Looking at you was seeing my own soul in a mirror, burning like lava, setting my insides on fire in a wonderful pain. I was drawn to you by supernatural powers. My strings were melting on me, my heart filled with acidic, venomous yearning, flooding my veins.

Drebbles 1: Sleep

Not a single day has passed without thinking about that perfect moment.

Dizziness as the hot air made by the radiators hits me is stripped away by the freezing December cold secretly making its way in through the window gaps.

The exhausted, painful hammering in my head goes to a full stop as you finally leave me be, the fragrance of yesterday night’s perfume on your shoulders spilling into my head as you are sleeping in the sweetest way I have ever seen anyone sleep in my life.

Astonishing – to see your restless soul at such perfect peace and harmony.

Artificial resuscitation

As I cannot cope with the hidden feelings I am harboring day by day, I must put Buried Alive on the operating table, open its chest with a rusty old knife, rip its heart out, beat it with an oversized sledgehammer until the damned thing beats again, then carefully re-wire everything and elaborately close the wound with duct tape.

As horroristic as it might be, it is necessary. I have again come to a point when my soul is massively overflowed with emotions hidden and forbidden, ripping my heavy head apart if I don't let it leak out somewhere. I cannot let it leak out to anyone, so I will do regular memory dumps in the form of a drabble series, titled "Drebbles", the spelling intentional - I won't tell what the intention is though.

If you like to read the miserable byproduct of an otherwise perfectly happy and intact soul, you are welcome to be my reader. If nobody ever reads it though... even if there was a magical way to make me care less, I couldn't.

Have fun!