SamanthaT96
The negotiated days during
Frosted Winter months will forever
Grave and re-grave it's tortured memories into the back of my
Mindless and pitiful skull.
The days spent there were
Crooked smiles and warm dinners where only you and I existed
Sitting before me, something so astonishing and crucial and speechless. My heart roared against the sturdiness of the rib cage it was so conventionally bound to.
They were talking among themselves... This is what they did. Half a word each day, in hushed voices, over rigged, decaying wooden tables. That was all they knew. How to talk, and how to listen. One mode of communication that so desperately clung to the thought of understanding that never came.
It was what I couldn't fight... This major, completely stuttered idea. How could I come across something so terrifying, so brooding? Something that twists the soul so utterly that it leaves marks on the physical appearance of skin? "What if I never find love?"