Close your eyes and stare into the dark, staring into that immeasurable blackness that stretches far beyond closed eyelids. Though I am lying still, I feel perched at the highest point i could possibly be; clutching at a star in the night sky with my legs dangling above cold black nothingness. Taking one last look at my fingers wrapped around the light, I let go and down I fall, then float and fall again, I wait for the land of my life. Behind the gauzed screen of shut-eye lies mere distractions that keep us awake but a sign that there's life beyond. But there's no life in me. None that I can feel as a deep black ocean forms around me from where I've fallen.
Rushing, rushing, rushing. We are always rushing. Never have enough time here, always trying to make our way there. Need to have left here five minutes ago, need to be there now. The phone rings again and I acknowledge the irony. Could have taken my time and answered it now.
Now, not then. Could have taken all the time in the world on each of those steps. But we're always rushing. All, but my heart. That slows now. I don't mind so much. I've landed now, the land of my life. And still, my heart pumps on.
Even when broken it still works.
