A hinge holds something together. What’s holding me together? What’s my hinge? What keeps me from falling apart when I hear something I can’t bear or look in the mirror and hate what I see? To be honest…I have no idea. I can’t imagine anything could be that strong.
Courtney
you’re looking at me like i’ve lost my mind, mouth wide but not holding a grin as usual. you don’t seem to understand do you? not that i expected you to considering that’s exactly why this conversation is taking place, because you don’t get me and i most certainly don’t get you. i want this to be best for us for it to turn out right once the door slams behind you but i’m not sure it will. i’m secretly hoping that after i finish spewing my words at you like a child who breathes too heavily while she chews that you’ll say “wait a second, don’t you dare i care about you and all those things i said were real. all those thoughts i through into your heart well i meant to i meant to make you fall for me and i fell for you.” but even after that i feel like i may not believe you. i mean i want to but how can i? you’ve been there for me, but not HERE for me.
I’m breaking, falling apart. Coming unhinged like an old door falling off it’s frame. That’s me, unable to take anymore. I’m losing my mind, slipping away.
Alex
hanging by the last
of unoiled remains,
of rusted inquiries
and dust-ridden brains,
thoughts lay petrified.
The old house was beautiful in it’s own dilapidated fashion. The front door was barely hanging on by it’s hinges, and strips of paint chipped across the front revealing the worn, splintering oak underneath. The floor boards creak with each step taken inside, and any light managing to stream through the windows was filtered with dust.
Kaylyn
There was a hinge on the gate that squeaked whenever someone walked through it, and it sent shivers down her spine like ice. So many bad memories, how many times had that gate opened and then she’d been hurt?
A hinge holds something together. What’s holding me together? What’s my hinge? What keeps me from falling apart when I hear something I can’t bear or look in the mirror and hate what I see? To be honest…I have no idea. I can’t imagine anything could be that strong.
you’re looking at me like i’ve lost my mind, mouth wide but not holding a grin as usual. you don’t seem to understand do you? not that i expected you to considering that’s exactly why this conversation is taking place, because you don’t get me and i most certainly don’t get you. i want this to be best for us for it to turn out right once the door slams behind you but i’m not sure it will. i’m secretly hoping that after i finish spewing my words at you like a child who breathes too heavily while she chews that you’ll say “wait a second, don’t you dare i care about you and all those things i said were real. all those thoughts i through into your heart well i meant to i meant to make you fall for me and i fell for you.” but even after that i feel like i may not believe you. i mean i want to but how can i? you’ve been there for me, but not HERE for me.
I’m breaking, falling apart. Coming unhinged like an old door falling off it’s frame. That’s me, unable to take anymore. I’m losing my mind, slipping away.
hanging by the last
of unoiled remains,
of rusted inquiries
and dust-ridden brains,
thoughts lay petrified.
hinge connected to
door,
room,
house,
town,
neighbor,
city,
country,
Earth
The old house was beautiful in it’s own dilapidated fashion. The front door was barely hanging on by it’s hinges, and strips of paint chipped across the front revealing the worn, splintering oak underneath. The floor boards creak with each step taken inside, and any light managing to stream through the windows was filtered with dust.
There was a hinge on the gate that squeaked whenever someone walked through it, and it sent shivers down her spine like ice. So many bad memories, how many times had that gate opened and then she’d been hurt?