Haunted Heart.

Haunted Heart.

Lashes flutter open, permitting the light to hit the iris and dilating the eyes. Two feet swing across the duvet and land on the tan carpet, slipping into sandals far too big. Limbs stretch up, shaking off the soreness from the restless night of sleep. The first sight of the day is a reflection staring back, prompting the day to move forward. Two steps forward and a turn of the knob the day begins, wash, eat, and off we go. The simple cycle that has become the treadmill of moving forward, paperwork, phone calls, taking orders, fill the majority of the day. A simple clock breaks the chain, and off to an hour of seclusion; although surrounded by people and noise. Sweat covered and pink, never has the world seemed so lonely and disconnected; back to the small enclosure meant to be an escape for it all. The present, past, and a chance to rebuild for the future; removing the layers that have kept everything inside; the black spots branded across have names, too painful to utter, too much dwelling to conjure it up. Laying beneath the blanket of darkness, eyes stare up and begin to imagine a new future. Possibilities to light up the night sky, hopeful for the aching chest to slowly mend. Routine, time and space working twenty four hours to make the past stay far behind. Carrying around a haunted heart only brings more misery that a broken one.  With a haunted heart, the ghosts of the past make their presence known. With a haunted heart the memories stored inside are locked away as they are replaced by the impending ones.