In the room, there sits the girl. In the room there is little. Her chair (which she sits on placidly now) a table at times, and well, maybe a painting from time to time. No door, no windows. Just the girl in an all but empty room. The girl and her frustrations sit in the windowless room "day" after "day".
I look in on her from time to time, but never for long, and only at the girls insistence. When she no longer sits, when she gathers herself up like a great whirlwind, up is she!! Up!! For she isn't going to sit for this a second more. She thrashes and crashes, the chair- always the very first to flip, then the table- yes it's always the same. Some things materialize themselves for the particularly cutting needs, or maybe some dresser drawers to yank out frantically- no matter the item, always the outcome- she'd set the chair upright first... And somehow magically things reverted into their long held places. How frustrating. She'd tried to leave the chair - and everything- toppled as it lay, but even that act just left her still in the room, but with more chaos screaming.
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So Cool & Collected, I severed my last tie to you. Yours I cut long ago, mine still lingering (so cool and untouched). The last piece. Your last smile. It was almost nothing, anyway.
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The girl rages. There's tears in her eyes again. She tastes salt and desperation. No one had ever warned her. You could step into a room a part of you would never walk out from. "But you can!" Or, that's what the girl thinks. The truth is that the girl will never get out alive. And what's to say of the girl who left some of herself there behind?
Bitter and sweet she mourns; no solace in the room. No ease.
Restraint. Patience. Yearning. Agony.
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pixelskylines
snowghoul
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
titsay