A field of silence, then a sudden decision.

A field of silence, then a sudden decision.
Black ink moves like weather across white space.
Beneath the lumbering and vicious black explosions.
Red bled underneath the ink and into the paper.
Showing the sorrow contained in the one stroke.
The one stroke.
The last stroke.
And nothing more exists for you.
You have become the weather.
There is not much left of your connection to earth or earthly humans.
She has been found too late.
Waiting as an angel is tedious.
God is slow to make decisions and we wait and are asked to remain cheerful.
Nobody imagines a sad angel a depressed angel I mean you’re in heaven.
Angels can become very sad in some cases.
Usually it’s love.
A love thread was ignited or refound from previous histories on Earth and all else…
Vanishes.
Even heaven becomes a series of waiting room-like experiences.
How soon can I get back to human form? How will we find each other again?
She can’t know it, but she can feel it, still on Earth as a human.
It becomes obvious, you have to let her go.
Humans cannot have angelic lovers, it is not allowed.
Something about the greeks on that one.
While you pine for love as a bored angel she is being drained by your attention.
You want her to be happy.
You want her to find her purpose and live with ease.
You just thought it was going to be with you.
Now, it’s more like a movie, silent movie, black and white, glitchy and dark.
You can keep an eye on her, but it doesn’t only hurt you, she is in agony about you.
I know that must feel good for a second.
You were great.
The greatest.
The ONE.
You died.
Fucked up the plans.
The human plans, cosmic time is different than you can comprehend.
Letting her go is painful.
She will wither and die unless you release her.
She is human.
You are
…other…

01-20-25

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