Stifle
make (someone) unable to breathe properly; suffocate.
restrain (a reaction) or stop oneself acting on (an emotion)
They say that writing coloured with emotion can be some of your greatest works; because they are your realities on the paper. Even so, sometimes it’s hard to come to the self-realization that you even have pent-up emotions. What if even now, you are stifling yourself. You are absolutely stifled. You do not want to be overtaken and swept up in lost emotions.
Stiff. Stifled. Shuffled. Shit-dismayed.
You want to talk to someone, but it is physically impossible. They are a ghost. Not that they are in the spirit world, but that they no longer exist in the form you once knew.
The magic, the energy, of encounters past haunt you in the most peculiar moments.
One moment you are drinking tea, the next moment you are reminded of the way their body smelled in a warm car on a cold, winter night. Both sheltered in a little alcove away from the rain. Safe, drinking warm tea and watching traffic pass by.
Why? Why then. You were just trying to enjoy a cup of tea. Why would that memory decide to resurface?
How do you tell someone about a ghost? The reincarnated soul would not even understand.
You are left haunted by the lingering memories. Alone. Stifled.
So maybe you should write about it?
However…
Do you even want to read what you’ve written? Do you want to lock it away in a mental vault instead?
Vaults get old; they rust.
They leak your treasures, one way or another.
So what to do, what to do.
♫
Go to the sea, set it aside for me.
Find me a bottle, an old green glass bottle.
Send them away, raise them to the tide.
Look at your reflection in the side of the bottle.
See who you are now, let go who you were before.
If you can. If you can’t,
If you can’t;
I know not what to tell you.
You’ll just be stifled.
As am I.
& What a lonely existence it shall be.
♫
You came back at the worst possible time, I thought I was free.
Two Ghosts Haunting One Another.
