When i lost her memories & shadow

          There was a night (i forget when) , we took a brief walk together; me , my shadow & her memories in late night of summer.We taking walk slowly but to my surprise i noticed my shadow was faster than me , i neglect that , soon my memories too walking fast leaving me behind, i just shocked watching them. Was not able to digest all this, just a moment before we all together .
           The dark shadow of mine was now turning whitish , with her memories. They walk for  a while then disappear. Before this i have already learn to breath and tolerate, but breathing alone was  not given to me , some torments with every breath were gifted to me. I was content in that i was having some memories but now she elope with my shadow. I had nothing then.
           I wish to transform myself in wind  so that i can catch them   so  ask for wind's help. She denied , she told she herself in search of her destiny , wandering  here and there, sometimes blow swiftly , sometimes hard. I then turn to earth and ask for help, she told that she have a huge heart, i can bury myself  there. For a moment i thought of it, it would be better to leave my body in hearth's heart , but then i leave this idea .As if i do so than i would be prisoner of my soul of cheating it, of depriving it from a body , i would culprit.
          Thus leaving this, wander aimlessly  for some time i came back to my place, without shadow and memories . Transforming      occurring, the diary in which i had write all those memories of her was now turning fade, when i was needing the most to read . i was losing one more thing, till then i believe by writing all these moments i would be able to live them again  by just reading them  but i was wrong, it was fading and vanishing.
then
          "I sit in the dark, and it would be hard to figure out
             which is worse, the darkness or the darkness outside"

I then look for my old fountain pen, empty that and washed that thoroughly , took blade and a  cut in vain , filling my blood in pen , i thought by writing through blood it would remain forever , won't disappear like ink. With trembling hand i was going to write what i lost today; the companion who always with me in my dark times,  my shadow ,and if not she than her memories , it was not just any tragedy but as if i lost something my own, long ago i come out of her life silently without saying any words but come with some memories of her, and today it lost that too. My hand resist to write ,it don't have such strength  to write all these then i thought to write any prosaic poetry, it resist that too , it just suddenly start writing an epitaph .
         What was happening was out of my control and endurance , i searched for morphine, it was something that i was needing, not the single malt whisky but morphin this time . I search , took and fade out. I waked but couldn't identify where exactly i was, on bed surrounding with some  unknown figure , at distant a familiar figure, with whitish glow , same old smile, fingers tucking hair seems known but was far of my sight, was not able to identify ,or it was one whose memory i lost,  was just thinking for some times and  fade out again.

        Since then i had dreams which i can't remember, every night i took trica and have sound sleep, some brief dreams , but all forget as i wake up, never remind any of them , except  a known stranger, little familiar figure, old smile, since i had lost my memories, her memories.

        

Writing without words

             Writing is either tough or very easy, many times it happens great chaos in mind, stampede of thoughts leading a sudden urge to write but not having words,  at that time feels as a sharp thorn piercing in toe but i continue to walk , feels restless to write . Wish i could write without words, could have magical words just thinking , whatever in heart just appear as a picture acr  Felt like a toddler, who want to tell something but couldn't speak, that eagerness, that restlessness . But still try, shows his words through his hopeful eyes, struggling acts, not so differ from mine, same state.
                     Sometimes i wish i turn  toddler again, who tries to walk, fall, stand again, fall seven times  stand eight times, finally learning , walking , without support, conquering his fear. Here i am falling , rising, struggling, defeating, crying , but not having zeal to stand again and fight for survival  , as if something in me has either forgotten or deep hidden, not untying these knots .
Though living in own parallel world, as if lies another life, living in  my own dreams. This imaginary life and reality continue to travelling parallel, as like a river. won't meet but will remain till end, some thoughts will be also like this, will remain in eyes till end.

    Writing is always redemptive, more cathartic when dark phases,  must when wandering , as this fickleness sucking me, pessimistic thoughts of choosing between worst  & more worst , is it reality or melancholic thoughts forcing me to think like this, don't know. But one thing not other,s opinion but inner voice will vanish all these darkness, not any other book but own writing , own reading will help, to explore myself only, need to read own insomniac eyes, own deep silence.