The emptiness is consuming me again. Little by little I'm no longer me. When I look in the mirror I remember a careless child, roaming the mysteries of the earth. I remember her happiness, shining as bright as the sun in the gold of summer. I remember her soul, as light as a breeze rustling through the humid air. Her eagerness to learn the joys of a new world. Her adventurous personality, exploring the forbidden aspects of life. Laughing when she was threatened, never letting it get to her. Because she knew the minute it did she wouldn't be the same anymore. I remember when this girl was the epitome of bliss and eagerness.
When this girl was all in herself the euphoria of summer. She was excitement. She was fun. She was friendship. She was adventure. But with the death of the season comes the death of the feelings and the girl's soul. That excitement has turned to fear of the things that made her once feel alive. The things that made her once fun have now turned her into a boring, greedy, shattered image of her true self. Those friendships turned into broken and empty lies. What she once called adventure has become the perils and panic of former memories. Memories that bring her to an unforgivable past.
Every breath she takes makes the world come crashing down as if she were breathing stormy waves against a frail ship. Her body the ship. The waves her life. She rows and rows and rows for the shore, for any hint of survival. But the waves seem to get bigger and more villainous. Swinging harder with every hit. The rows are becoming battered and mauled. No hope of life. Every row hurts more and more. She begins to give up, the waves commence to rise above the ship, spilling over to swallow it whole. The fight is over, the battle is lost. The nefarious sea has won. The ship has sunk, everything the girl has ever worked forgone. In a matter of seconds, her life has been swallowed. Her memory forgotten. Her screams silenced. Her life, gone.
YOU ARE READING
Girl In Healing
PoesiaLittle sweet nothings I began to write myself at a young age that turned to madman ramblings, I'm writing this book not as a cry for help but as a beacon to every soul who became lost the same way I did.
