The sweet silence for nothingness

Those sweet Sunday mornings where the sun had a smile so bright it illuminated the inside of my soul.

I'd sit and listen to the sweet silence of nothingness

I'd feel the rays of the sun coursing through my vines

It filled my existence with wholesomeness.

Those sweet Sunday morning brought sweet Monday mornings

When the 5:30 alarms meant the start of an adventure

Those sweet Sunday mornings brought the unexplained happiness, the sweet desire to live, to experience, to believe and to dream.

Those sweet Sunday mornings erased those dark Saturday nights, where scary thoughts roamed free, where the monsters under the bed escaped to a place more permanent, my head.

Those sweet Sunday mornings silenced the voices in my head. Made me forget they were even there.

How I miss those Sunday mornings, life was easier the world was brighter I was happier.

I can't remember when those sweet mornings stop coming. Now the sun has stopped smiling, now the voices are back, scattering the sweet silence of nothingness like ashes in the wind.

Now I can't feel the Rays coursing through my veins. Now I forgot to forget about those scary Saturday nights in all its glory and despair.

Those sweet Sunday mornings are long gone, with no warning, or explanation leaving me to wake up to the harsh reality of my existence.

I miss those mornings

I need those mornings

Now I sit and wait for their return

They took with them their happiness, their desire to experience, to believe to dream...they left their desire to live, I still have that. Because living means waking up every morning to the possibility for those sweet Sunday mornings.