rolipoli
Cross woven in a loom and stupidity with flicks of bewilderment but mostly just ignorance. Her mind, like a bee hive, thousands of little wings floating around driving everyone, including herself, simply mad.
The sky shined despite the lack of sun. Starts light up the earth from above. They remain a single light source in this small town she calls home.
So I stand there, holding the fridge door open with one hand and exploring the context of it with the other, wondering about an infinity of issues. One: What do I want to eat. Two: Why am I here. Three: How do I get away from this all.
Wilting from the lack of hope. Without the gleaming hope of the future nothing can be accomplished. Nothing can be done to change what it has done. Nothing can be how it was before. Too much stress overpowers the little optimism that what is soon to come will be any better than what has recently passed
Washed onto the shore slivers of bottles wash up. They remain from the past. Past parties, past binges, past emotions.
She was strung.
Her dreams and aspirations were hung.
Her body was now lifeless. The regiments of her hung from the rope. That rope took on the role of letting her free in that old abandon building. Her lifeless arms hung and still legs dangled. She strung herself from the ceiling. In that building was something she adored when she was young, it was her escape from the world. The skeleton made up the majority of the structure as of then, the fat of it peeled away. No longer with paint or any sign that it one inhabited people, only some walls remained.
writing since 2013 · 8 entries · 6 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Sophia showed up.
2longest streak
6days written
4.7entries / week
the words Sophia reaches for
paststrunghungbodyfreelifelessropebuildingherselfremainlackhopedonelightdrainedsoul