cutting confidence

Knives pierced through the plaster ceiling as she walked into the bedroom....with heels denting the hardwood floor, the entrance was unnerving and startling. Living in a colony...populated by one, mentally unkempt and forced to move in ways that defy nature......what is left is a sparse puddle of emotion, blank and fleeting with the remains of the day.....

every word is forced and fingers are crossed.....praying forward, in hopes of an end.....even if that steers backward, in direction...anything to move towards empty....

every corner was backed into....safety remained foreign

escape was not possible...hands and knees would be a pleasant option, but emotionally, ...when you are bleeding, there is nothing to bleed/lean on....it has to flow.

pointing at this paper with pain...I see a clean slate on the next page, unwritten but unsure and scared to turn to it...as I fear the truth will continue to spill and fill...me...with sadness.....

Comments

  1. ...reading it a year after you wrote it - and i know a year is quite a difference. i know how S has changed around, yet still , reading it over and, meng...this is the way I feel right now. not bueno

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