And The Black Stream Rages

And The Black stream rages.

By Ra’Chaun Rogers

It courses up and swells in the linings of my mind, driving me mad. It takes up all of the space in which lie the memories of you, I can’t help but be pained by its presents. It is I that self-righteousness that aches my heart and causes me to lose all pieces of you.

“Hello”. I say but she won’t respond. And so I sit here waiting to cry and but nothing happens… I can’t really think, I just want you to see what I really feel but it doesn’t go over.
“I need to take apart my head, and reconfigure my heart” I speak to space and move the air with my words, which crash so loudly on deaf ears.

It speaks to me. ”You’ll die alone like everyone else.”
It expects me to take solace in that. I hope’s that something that it did would be comforting. But it’s lost in the endlessness of itself. It hopes to be like Mother, but it can’t be like…

What has driven me to write this? Sad, foolish, pathetic pride a worthless word that grants nothing but fuel for the terrified ego. I am foolish to think that a side of me that lacks substance could be correct. I wish to divide, disappear and evaporate.
“Can I get back to the center?” I wait for an answer and she keeps me waiting.

“And why wont she listen to me, am I non existent” What am I waiting for I deserve a better answer than this, Better than silence I think.

“What do you want?” she asked in whisper louder than a nova

“To break down, to divide and fall apart, to reinvent myself, but still keep “myself”.
She laughed not what I expected but she did. I stood there puzzled as she walked away.
“Hey.” I called after her. “I thought you were going to help me.”
“I can’t help you change, but I can tell you who can.” She turned and smiled, and then she pointed. “He’s standing in your spot.”

I looked down at my shoes and noticed my shadow, but in it I saw the self-righteousness bleeding through. “I deserve better than this.” I whispered with a sound as quite as the sun moving across the sky and walked off in the opposite direction. Back to where I began. I had traveled father than I had thought, the area I ended up in was much different from the winter scenery. It was a grassy field and pastel flowers littered the ground.
“Sirius?” I spun around quickly “where I am?” my voice carried, expanded and dispersed like a cloud smoke.

I heard the sound of laughter and caught sight of a stone structure in the distance, I walked towards it every step I took covered large amounts of ground. I was finally upon the structure. It was filled with men and women all laughing, talking and smiling, it was then I noticed an open book staring me in the face in the middle of the crowd. On the page was what seemed to be a poem called 0/10. And suddenly I knew where I was. It was springtime and this was my season of jealousy and self-loathing.