amber808
A lack of movement, motivation and skill- why go on and bicker to the world around me? It barely contained my interest; worst than my strained attention span. The tapping and the constant rapture of the fragile nerves in my brain, while thoughts ticked soundlessly away into the dark void in my cranium. Should it bother me? Honestly, SHOULD IT?! I swore aloud, smashing the wine glass against the table's ledge. Not even cringing or crying out loud at the dull pain. Scowling I proposed that my spluttered hand would need stitches. Yet, that's another scar to add to my vast collection of forgotten misconceptions.
It was like a epic dream gone wrong. I wasn't sure whether to embrace the mess before me, or the clean it up like any other person would. However, I continued to stand there still. unmoving- my eyes roaming and raving at the broad epitome of human existence that laid our before me, ready for dissection. Slowly, I cut down the middle of the mass with my scalpel, careful not to nick any passing veins or precious organs that barely functioned previously. Gently, i pulled back the tissue and reached for my notebook. Scribbling down notes furiously, i barely managed to notice a piece missing from the jigsaw- a child's worst nightmare. I couldn't already feel my eyebrows knitting themselves together, my tongue sticking out between my teeth. Why only a heart was necessary to fix this poor sucker. Too bad after the last civil war- they become rare and almost on the verge of extinction. The key word here being almost... ~
Sometimes I wonder to myself whether life is worth the wait- is patience really a virtue? Or is it merely a setback to all those accomplishments that are left hanging in despair- calling out for you to come forth and collect what was left for dead during that time were life seemed to pass by merrily. The dead are better left buried as the living are best left ignorant to their heavy footsteps that embed the cracked ground. I look back to what I left behind- will i ever be satisfied with what i now hold in my strained hands? Hands that quivered as my white cheeks are bruised with forgotten tears- tears that flow in streams like the blood that once ran through my hardened veins. I close my eyes once more, openly embracing rest for eternity.
writing since 2012 · 4 entries · 3 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Alice showed up.
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the words Alice reaches for
barelyforthutterlywhetherdeadstrainedhandsforgottentearsveinseyesworstwhisperedearcapturepurpose