New Normal

I'll be fine tomorrow— a whispered promise to no one, to myself. It's a nuisance, a pain in the assiduous characters of my intellect, unrelenting, well-meaning, but delusional, nothing truly unusual. I'll feel fine in a week. Only the weak build paper-thin walls - desperate shields against a crumbling sky. They're cracking, but denial is refuge. For now. Maybe a month or two? Freedom is just a few short stretches away. A spurt, if you will. The will is strong, and will weather any long road ahead. Solace is surely near. Christmas is here. Certainly by now, I thought— but silence answered. No— No one knows, when, how, where, why, what. No one knows sh— Shame on me. Shame for hoping. Will is gone. Time stands still. Fragility becomes reality. Necessity is nearly lost to me - a shadow of something I once longed for - not its own anymore. I belong to the existence of something long forgotten. But Even shadows exist in the light. A little frightening to accept at first, but even the most sheltered must learn the flavor of change— a revolting, bitter taste. Most of the time. But even the bitter can taste sweet with the right miracle. Even the tongue can learn to perceive sour as sweet - a new normal - for life is only as perceived. For better or worse? The answer is a ghost, shifting in the dark, and I'm still learning to hear its voice.