cielo26
the earth nourishes every being on it, like a mother nourishing her child.
after all, we are all the earths children.
twisting and turning in bed, sleep refuses to overcome my tired eyes and mind tonight. I watch the moonlight streaming in through the cracks in the curtains, reminding me of witches, magic and unpleasant things.
i hear the doorknob twist, and the soft footsteps of strange feet.
i feel the knife in my stomach, and the way it twists to make sure i bleed.
a twisted mind makes many enemies.
I remember looking at bullet holes at the site of the massacre of the beloved queen. Round holes, chipped around the edges on the white cement. I looked at them, symbols of death, screams, pain.
I imagine the sound of bullets firing in movies, blood gushing out from freshly created pores. I imagine children crying, groans of despair, tears of losing the loved.
Bullets never bring happy memories. They even shoot bullets into the air to demand silence.
the car was swerving violently on the highway. it was a surprise the driver hadn't managed to hit another car or crash into the railing. it wasn't till it had entered the city once again and was making it's way through the narrow street when she finally decided to bring an end to it all.
turning points are scary. you know that it's going to take you somewhere but you are unaware of the destination. But that is exactly what thrilled her. She took as many turns as she could, going away and away from where she started and she made sure to make it impossible to be able to find her way back.
I felt like an outsider till I learnt the language. But that didn't change that people might've thought that I didn't belong.
It takes time to change the title of 'outsider' into someone who is part of the family.