I reached out and tried to touch the stars dotting the dark skies. The cold wind blew, whipping past my burning face and my wet hair. When I clasped my fingers and brought them down for me to see, there was nothing there, and it took me a second to realize that those stars cannot be reached.
For that instance I let out my truest scream. Clutching the sides of my head and falling down on the cemented pathway back home, I screamed until I felt like I could rip out my vocal chords. I screamed until somebody heard me. I screamed until it broke me.
But you know what? That didn't happen, because the moment I fell on the floor, clutching the sides of my head, I heard nothing but the sound dying in my throat, extending as I ripped open my mouth, finding that damn voice that disappeared on me when I needed it.
Where were the emotions I was supposed to be feeling?
YOU ARE READING
Entendre
PoetryAn expression or burst of emotions, a place of solace from suicide and depression. May be an art or a form of liberation-probably a loss of sanity driven from hungry memories; to understand and listen to the stories around us, a passion-driven delir...
