anything and everything all at once because that is all of what's
left. Is this what it feels like to be recklessly torn apart, to die a
slow tortured death. Is it the last straw bit of sanity being ripped
from the inside. Is this where the difference between love and hate
become indistinguishable. Melodrama.
"Don't be upset" she kept saying.
"There's nothing you can do about him" she kept insisting.
I've heard that too many times and I've had more than enough.So I left
in a fury, leaving Christmas presents behind, ripped wrapping paper
and discarded ribbon fluttered in my wake. Anger and frustration
rained down, hesitant at first but steady in the end.
I drove forward, a sleeping puppy in my lap. The overcast sky hung
low, bare tree branches swayed mournfully in the biting winter breeze.
And suddenly I was home, or at the place where all of my stuff sat,
because there wasn't such thing as home anymore.
2 comments:
That was deep!
It has to be.
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