My Cupboard
When I open the cupboard inside me if find all sorts of junk and trinkets, all with sentimental value, like the rock I threw at that asshole Lachlan, made him cry, it was worth it.
You can find many things in there many things I have left behind. On my journey of life but I always go back home and open my cupboard. There I find my most prised possessions of all. I keep them all in there, neat and tidy, well cared for. I hold on to every single one as I know that they are important to who I will become.
My treasure is my jars filled with jewels. Some Diamonds, Rubies, Emeralds. All in their seperate jars they sparkle and glow, some jars half full some with a single Jem and others have larger jars than the others. They are light and dark, earth and sky, water and fire and all inbetween. They are my emotions, polished and cared for. But there has always been the concern of, what will happen next to threaten my Cupboard, will it be torn down, burned, washed away, will it be broken into and valuables stolen? Like years before. Or will the problem lie with myself as my hordes of jewels overflow the Cupboard and no matter how I try I lose some and can not cramp a single Jewel back in. But I was never ever prepared for this.
I have faced angry mobs, handicapping mists, drowning seas, the light of a close up burning sun, love and heartbreak, and sharp needles. But I was never prepared for this at all.
I woke up one morning and opened my cupboard and my cupboard was squeaky clean empty, not a note, no signs of violent entry, the Cupboard looking normal, no scratches on its surface. Like it was always empty, like everything was never there. But the memories of that full cupboard make you look listlessly for it for any sign whatsoever.
You search every shelf and you find a single Jewel but it looks like none of the ones you every owned before, this jewel is gray and dull, like an empty shell reflecting the emptiness of the cupboard, it was not yours.
I feel resounding sadness hit me wave after wave like the constantly moving seas. My fingers feel numb, my hands feel numb, my arms feel numb, my chest feels numb, my legs and neck feel numb, my head feels numb and my toes feel numb. I shiver. I mourn the loss of myself, Lucy, replaced with the new and as I named that Jem, Bianca.
