Limbo

He was a mess. Broken and missing a piece of himself. He was a constant cycle of sleepless nights and too much coffee. He was staying up too late in the evening and not waking up early enough in the morning. All of his songs were now in minors, his lyrics no more than the sounds from his broken heart trying to maintain a constant beat. He was the feeling of coldness from sleeping in a single bed once occupied by two. He was alone. She was unsure. Never quite sure if her words were heard, or if she even said them at all. She was the constant pain of never feeling like enough. She was dragging hands through hair and looking too deeply into things that are just on the surface. All of her stories now end in tragedy, her characters no more than fragmented pieces of herself, each trying to find their way to being whole again. She was the silence of a large room once full of love and truth. She was lost.This was limbo. The state in between hurting and healing, never getting enough of either to be anything but both.