cerulean
The trains are whispering
they're screaming
choo choo
they whisper
choose choose
they scream
I woke with welts along my arm.
I didn't realize that dreams did so much harm.
The flowers will either wilt when they're ready
Or when your hand on the can becomes unsteady
So pour a little water across the wishes I left
Before I put the feelings to rest
The flowers learn to wilt
before they learn to smile.
The voices around her were only whispers in her head. The faces were so blurred, the world so indistinct. All she could hear were her stomach's constant cries. Crying, crying, crying. She tried to wipe the tears away, screaming inside for the sake of pure discipline.
She was determined to win this fight.
Yet in only a moment, her body was sprawled across the floor.
The wallpaper was torn, dust scattered across the living floor like the ashes of a destroyed past. There was a little table with broken legs in the center of the room. On it, a telephone rang. It rang and rang and rang.
"You've reached the Dorsey family. Sorry, we're unavailable. Please leave a message after the beep!"
The same message, every time.
Yet no one ever came.
"There are teaching methods, there are multiplication methods, there are grading methods, childcare methods, memorization methods, there are methods to everything! But there's absolutely no method for getting out of this."
"Karen," He inched towards her, and she couldn't help but let him. "What we have is the best method of all." The young, married man kissed the teacher, and she slowly shut out the brutal reality around her.
I knew that I loved him the moment I saw him pour the lemonade. It spilled all over the table and quickly, he rushed to clean it up, apologizing repeatedly as he threw side-glances my way. I didn't want perfection; I wanted him, clumsy, kind him.
It was only a brief moment. I caught a glimpse of his eyes just before he turned and walked away. The door never slammed; it just shut, so simply and so quietly. I wish it had slammed, I wish the moment hadn't been so quiet, and most of all, I wish that single moment in time could've been just a bit longer.
Switching is hard. Whether it's switching homes, switching grades, switching lifestyles, switching always demands our own courage. Yet, we can't be afraid to switch or else we will done day be afraid of life itself.
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writing since 2012 · 21 entries · 20 days shown up
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