sitara
What do you make of doorframes, where the notches marking heights stop just at eye level? When did you stop caring how tall you grew, and started thinking about how wise?
I never did learn how to stitch. It seems so simple, weaving a thread in and out, with a small knot at the end to seal it off
You're not good enough. Smart enough. Strong enough. Clever enough. After years of whispering in her ears, fear had finally taken over. And all that whispered nonsense became her.
You must strive for perfection. That was always his father's motto. So why then was he, his father's finest creation, so imperfect?
Come here, darling. No one's going to harm you. I won't let them. You know I won't. You're all mine.
"He's such a trooper", they exclaimed. Sure, he thought to himself, if you knew what it's like to be stuck with the bunch of you, you'll all be dragging your dead limbs closer to the door too.
They zoomed by, left to right to left and on and on. She watched as her children made her prison the most fun thing around.
I love you, he wrote on the sand.
A wave washed it away.
He rewrote it.
And she sighed happily.
They stood there, proud and tall, in the face of sure destruction. Like pines against a storm.
No one yelled out 'all aboard'.
There was no warning.
Now, everyone was responsible.
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writing since 2011 · 30 entries · 30 days shown up
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the words sitara reaches for
wallone'srememberspenthandwatchingslowlygoodbyehumansfearhugestandingstaredwatchedlovestood