chasing hate away

I chased his ghost across the field, the span of land that always crosses my mind when my eyes are closed and my dreams come to life. Stars above, the moon is so bright.

Blind love was visible, clearly seen among the waste of what appears to be my life. The light of your words pierced through the darkness of my thoughts. I am a coward, trembling in a corner of my own consequences. Love has left me and so I crawl back into the darkness, I wasn't gone for long. I shake because my bones carry an eternal chill that I cannot rid myself of. Sometimes, I feel the warmth of a tear.

Greed is currency. Selfishness exists and always will. This pessimistic view will forever be held as long as greed is exchanged as money is, so freely.

It was rough.

He had grabbed a uniquely shaped piece of sandpaper and started with my heart. It hurt being rubbed with criticism and attacked based on situations that happened in my past. Over and over, the sand paper began to create a routine for the task at hand. At first I resisted the attempt at being made smooth. I was made to be rough, this is who I am. After going through what I did there was no way to be made new again.

Hours had passed and my heart relented control. I accepted the goal of the sand paper, secretly hoping that it was taking away all my insecurities and fear of repeating what happened with each stroke. There was a part of me that hated who I had become, but another part of me secretly found comfort in it.

Change was the goal and slowly the goal became a mutual effort. The ghost faded along with the impression he made. A new figure, a figure with sandpaper in hand, had made an even larger impression.

Joy slowly spread and I felt alive again.