Life.

lines.

They were just colored lines. I had no clue what they meant. I knew each one stood for something important, though I couldn't distinguish what each something was.

I just watched them.

They each bounded, to their own rhythm, like bouncy balls that defied the laws of gravity and friction.

They continued their constant movement off the side of the black screen just to begin back from where they started. Each time they passed they left a trail of their rhythm.

I held back my tears and just watched them.

I prayed that they would continue their weak rhythm. I prayed they'd improve. Become more powerful. Continue the low trenches and high peaks they formed.

If somehow gravity got a hold of them, took them and crushed them into flat markings running across that screen, I knew it'd all be over.

I would lose something precious.

Someone precious.

I'd be back to the bottom of that low dark hole I've been trying and trying to get out of.

I'd crave the comfort of night when nobody could hear me cry.

I'd have no choice but to let the grief take over.

Again.