Get To You

Running through the jungle, crying with the ageless night, just to get to you. I was scarred, bleeding, my life force was seeping away. Covered, pressing my wound with sheer pressure, hoping lesser blood would flow through the soddened piece of my clothing.

I veered to the right, putting my instinct into a jog, that sent me crashing into a pit, the fall was quick, thump! splash! I found myself in the dark, my wound was ripping open, pain surged my body, I let out a shout of pain, letting out some treachery to the stale night air, leaving me some space for me to catch my breath, to realise the magnitude of danger that I was in.

Killing, I was dying slowly, fading in and out of the blurred frame of reference. My blood loss was drastically increased, I knew I could not survive the night, but I needed to pull this long shot, I need to get to you. I spaced in and out between my void and useful thoughts. Heaving a deep sigh, I looked up into the stars of the sky, knowing the stars were as numerous as the grains of sand by the beach, signifying every probability that I had, that I owned, so that I could get to you.

I was shrouded by fear, the preeminence of death, the suspending dejection, projected by the forlorn moon shine, glow, a waning light, a somnolent good-bye kiss. My train of thoughts were generating countless events to bring me out of this ruckus. The fabric of my existence was held together by the gossamer silver cord to life, I looked down at my wound, dimly lit, an abysmal crimson red shimmer escaped into my eyes, remembering the pain, the hopelessness, I need to get to you.

Darkness slunk into the lingering of the moonlight, transforming into a starless night at a snap of a finger, my heart leapt into a swifter pace when the first rain drop pummeled my nose, smudging my blemished face with a forgone conclusion. I need to get to you. Adamant, with fortitude, but nature hit me hard, leeches started to popped out of nowhere, showing their ugly slimy gooey body slithering into my sight.

I sat in peace, my exposed wound was the main attraction, blood, this would be a slug fest, literally. Embracing the impending peril to my existence, I held close to the broken textile of hope, grasping on to a straw when I was drowning in anguish. I need to get to you. Engulfed slowly by the slimy, odious texture of a slow death.

I need to get to you. Her face coruscated at the hem of my thoughts, the fabric to my reality. I need to get to you. I was contorted, I feared, I screwed up, I blamed myself to much. I need to get to you. Laying helplessly in the heavy blue, yours, I was suffocating on myself, the leeches, life itself. Gasping for air, my life force was draining, dissipating, squandered. I missed my chance, I screwed up, everything turned murky.


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Published by zeckrombryan

Hope. Joy. Feelings cloaked as words.

23 thoughts on “Get To You

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