- Reads 3
- Votes 0
- Parts 1
Ongoing<5 mins
Last published Fri, Oct 9, 2015
she always made my heart flutter , all things that mattered now, then?.. she couldn't do wrong .her face was as angelic as an angel in flesh . now her presence is so disturbing its like , for example taking sand paper and rubbing it againts a stone desk the scraping getting louder as every second passes by in a quiet room unable to move being able to stop the noise from rupturing your eardrums your melody is now the tune i turn as soon as i hear it every forgivness is darkdoor awaiting the moment where were knocking , begging to be let back in . i just want to settle the unease, the elephant in a gigantic room, the piece to the puzzle we're missing. before the bridge is burned and we can never turn around and go back home
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All of us needed our own saviour. It could have been in any form. A person. A talent. An outburst. A paper. Laughing. Smiling. Walking forward. Breathing. Writing. And some of us needed someone to save us from ourselves. Our minds. Our own demons scattered in the depths of places we don't even want to imagine. Perhaps, it was what she was looking for. The depth within. ---------------------------------------------------- But little did we know, the heart was nothing but a sponge. It absorbed all kinds of feelings--pain, pleasure, depression, joy. Once absorbed, never stained.
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