as she looked up at the sky accusingly,
with an unwavering stare
she felt
like it was all slipping away.
from her hands,
and mind
and soul and
her very being.
like the lives she had sewn
out of her own imaginations and
expectations,
were now staring back at her,
with the same dreadful silence and
expressions of defeat.
although,
she couldn't say if
it was for real or
her imaginations haunting her again,
like they always did.
she could only hope for the former one.
the loss of air in her lungs,
was reminded to her
by the growing thickness of the lump in her throat,
the blockade in her vision
and the numbness in her skin.
she felt like she was falling apart,
drifting away.
but even in the dizziness, she
stood up, not bothered by the black leathered notebook as it fell, from her lap,
the pen, as it hit the ground with a clicking noise, and
the tip, as it broke to spill the ink, all over the page, making
every word, in the soaked page and
the others undecipherable.
but she didn't seem to care
as she moved with a tipsy gait,
her hair piled and soaked
in sweat, around her neck and
as the air blew around her petite body, she
shivered.
even before she knew it, she
was leaning over the railings,
looking over the city,
her cheeks glistening with fresh tears.
a gasp
then, another.
mortal life, she thought
was so fragile, wasn't it?
and yet it had its own shape, form,
existence.
we could end it so easily,
anytime we wished, but
we do not.
because, it's our conscience that
stops us; the strength of our mind and
the strength of our heart.
and yet, neither of them is tangible
nor of any physical existence.
her grip over the cold railing tightened.
but,
did not everybody live only
to eventually die?
the sun was shining brighter now.
the brightness made her squint.
her chest tightened, like
it were repeatedly being stabbed.
her insides burned from the lack of oxygen.
her hallucinations like
an ivy vine, wrapped around the
trunk of her life;
and
her existence.
so beautiful in appearance, so brutal in reality;
sucking out every ounce of her life, and
feeding its ownself until
and growing
growing,
until it's only itself and she remains in the shadow of the beauty,
that never helped.
she suppressed a sob and stared.
"perhaps in another life, T"
she saw him smile.
YOU ARE READING
y o u
Poesíai've never breathed more, as i have around you, but breathing in the same air as you, was suffocating enough to make me want to stop. but, love, you can't just stop breathing like that, can you? [in which, she writes letters to him, letters tha...
