Silver Sky

What was boiling not too long ago has come down to a slow simmer, perhaps the best word for it is 'addiction'. It's a different feeling, and I've never been one who has experimented with feelings.

Have I regained my composure or is this simply a moment of calm in between storms?

The afternoon sky today was silver. The early morning breeze carried the sharpness of a sword of ice. I walked wearing armour around my heart, it did not help with the cold.

"Things are just beginning now", I began to think I looked up at the grey sky. The sun is a pale white behind these clouds. Beautiful. Depressing.

There is this doubt that I may try my hardest only to fail, and failure is what I fear most. From a cold, logical perspective it does not make sense, I have nothing to gain by not trying either.

I've allowed myself to be led, to chase after the carrot that was dangled in front of me as I crushed ripe apples underneath my feet.

I've been to purgatory before- but my trips have been like a dive into open water. I took a deep breath before I went in- and again when I got out.
I never tried to survive within it- merely tolerate it long enough for people to stop asking questions.

But unless I learn to breathe in sick, suffocating water, I will drown.

Enough of this obsession. The breeze is cool, not cold, and comforting. I am lying in under the open sky. Though it may not be infinite today, this curtain of silver gives me more than enough room to spread wings.
Are they real or made of wax?

Someday soon, I hope to lie sprawled on the grass and look up at an endless blue- just like the old days...