the room

i returned to that room to seek an answer or merely jus seeking someone to talk to. a portion of what it used to be the orange lighted room still filled with radiant energy. the room was solemn with respect & warmth with care. welcoming me, a figure held high by many, being laser etched on a transparent glass. people were in there because of him. a centre glass panel was the sole focus. i creaked my way through the lacquered wooden floor to an elongated grey cushion seat with wooden backrest, where i find myself spending the sunday afternoon in. the only sounds in the room were rosary beads falling back on each other, pages of the bible rustling against one another, other than that was my own voice in my head, crying in my heart. i closed my eyes & tears from my tear duct just came oozing into the brink of my eye socket forcing streams of tears down my cheekbones. surrounding me were glances of old people scrutinizing me. it didn't stop. my mind was in a swirl, it lost its function & tears just kept streaming down. nobody seems to care except him. i tried to hold sway over myself & talked, somehow i guess his presence there to listen to me managed to subdue me as i reminiscence about the past. it was all that is left to keep me going & smiling. thank you. tears dried up leaving streaks of dried marks on my cheeks with swollen eyes i apologised & thanked. i left the place in a hustle with regrets. i dont wish to be seen. i knw i will be back for the good or the worse i do not know.. but deep down i do know that i still do. i'm holding on.

ironically, wedding bells were ringing joyously in the atmosphere when all these were going on & the supposedly other half of the room became a free clinic.