(This is one of those special pieces of writing that seems to capture something deeper than truth)

Falling hailstones strike my window. Sombre black gluts my thinking. I break into a thousand pieces. Fleeing a husband, two young children — a home.

What am I doing? How could I!

In a surreal universe — displaced and running aimlessly alone on a dappled road. I feel unbalanced. Disconnected. Gutted. I keep running away wild to misguided intentions, misaligned reality.

Distrust and doubt are my companions. I see flower children with long flat-ironed hair. I only went braless because it was stylish. LSD — eyes out-of-orbit. Voices shouted, “Hey Man! Hey man!”

A dark abyss presses down. Wasted thoughts revisit my dark soul. Today is going nowhere — my spirit is full of emptiness. Shame. Guilt — ill forbodes.

Feeling desperately alone, humiliated in my own sunken disregard — flame of abandonment search what I’ve left behind. Anxious thoughts. Hate — self-inflicts. In solitude, sifting through this muddled mind, I ponder my life.

Bleak thoughts of lost and found, edges swirl, torturing my troubled heart. In a devil’s sinkhole I die many times-over.

The sweet sounds — of my children.

On a road of abstract dimension buried souls scream with many minds, many. Heavy undertones stifle my thinking.

Isolated between four walls I find myself staring into a white porcelain bowl — a consequence of blind will and illicit consumptions. Collapsing, my body lay cold on terracotta tiles. My days are hollow.

Hours later, in negative space — whispers faint Is this death? Is this life? A critical crossroad. I am broken and afraid. Release my strangled thoughts so my tomorrows may follow.

A voice calls. I drag myself across the floor. Rising, I place one foot in front of the other.

Each day an echo, a blessing. Life ever evolving. Rebuilding a family, a home, and a white picket fence.