Over-Population

Over-Population


Like a forest it bears undergrowth that snags at one’s feet and vines that entangle anything encountering them. No light that surpasses the inadequate opening could penetrate the thick masses of its occupants with their bright hues that are veiled in darkness. Each occupant waits patiently to be released and lay bare its pigments its own portentous magnificence. With each having its own stories to tell, they hang around in silence choosing to keep the confidences in which they have been entitled. Hope swells within each that they still serve a purpose and will not become a forgotten one. They wait in silent suspension, longing to receive a coveted invitation to play a vital role in some symphonic affair.

The gaping hole beckons to me and I often dare to venture rather than pass; with each visit identical to the previous. A cramped dark space in which it is difficult to catch one’s breathe, the smell is that of days gone by. My face exchanges space with something silk and smooth (not so unpleasant) while my shoulder is brushed against by something rough, dry and scratchy.

Soon I am engulfed in the midst of many creatures of varying textures. After an exhaustive struggle I disengage myself tossing behind me something periwinkle, only to be attacked again by a creature magenta in color. Once more I break free as I fling it behind me.

Again and again I am overwhelmed by these creatures. Their fabulous colors burst forth from each as they are plunged into the light. I continue to liberate myself creating a palette vibrant with colors of olive, crimson, umber, cerulean blue and so many more. Repeating this until at last, all that remains in my closet is the pewter suit I wore two days before and an expose` of discarded pocketbooks, blankets, hats, shoes, gloves and belts, as well as some clothes long forgotten.