the fourth door
Prologue ~
I approach the door I see in my dreams.
The shifting dreams I've had for the past few nights.
Sometimes its the same door, sometimes it's new.
So each night, I focus and describe it in this journal
The door, so that one night I can choose.
door of lost
I don't remember.
Tethers
that Stretch
Deep
hang,
slack
now
Without Connection
to
Memory
The door is here.
I'm dreaming.
I'm standing
although
I don't know how I know
that
I'm standing
I'm closed, so without knowing how. I open.
{{ The Door Is Here }}
The door stands in front of me. Silvery tendrils flow like seaweed from the core of the sun. The tendrils, translucent, beckoning heartbeats in a vacuum. Flickering against a pouring light – So white, that if I had flesh, I knew it would already have burned away.
As I go to scream, a tendril reaches my cheek and I remember my mother.
The smell of her long dark raven hair. The autumn eyes, the first eyes id ever seen in the world.
The warmth of being held The first time I knew I wasn't alone. held.
The forgotten memory, my first one,
retches something so deep
so personal, it hurts.
The light around the door, pulsates, in satisfaction.
Rippling the loose shadowy threads
I don't know how much ive forgotten
For a moment I ponder staying
For a moment
The pain of remembering
vs
The pain of forgetting
struggles
until at last
I turn away
teary eyed, I force myself to wake up