|
|
|
Dreaming of being away, looking out the window thinking of places beyond this small room that she’s in. She sighs as she casts away a strand of hair. Her teachers tell her to pay attention, on the out side she’s focused; she stares into the eyes of her teacher, deep down into the heart of her enemy, and mutters out the words, “I’m sorry, it wont happen again.” But it does, it happens all the time. And as she dreams on the inside, of getting out of the nightmare; she’s pretending to be something that she’s not. To be a part of these peoples lives, but she’s not. To be like these people, but she’s not. She has her own definitions, her own answers, she will not take anyone else’s. They whisper things about her, the odd one; but these rumors are true, she is odd. She’s out of the ordinary, she’s unique, she’s her own style, does that mean she’s weird? She starts to think this, she starts to wonder why she’s so different; she starts to disappear. And as she fades away, the others watch her on the side lines. They see her drowning in her own sorrow, they sit and do nothing. She wasn’t like them, she wont ever have a chance to be like them, because she dead on the inside. She starts to hate, she starts to yell at herself in the mirror, she cuts herself to get rid of the emotional pain; because it feels better than the things that she’s feeling on the inside. And as the blood drips down, the people stare, the people do nothing, “she brought this upon herself,” they say. And now she’s laying in her pool of misery, drowning in her crimson regret. And the people watch, some shed their tears for her, but their tears wont bring her back. The roses fade, but the memory remains. The body rots, but the memory remains. The seat in the class is empty, and will stay empty, but the person who was once in it leaves their mark. And now their staring at the grave, “rest in peace,” they say, “you can go in peace now.”
[Caricature_of_Intimacy] · Thu May 10, 2007 @ 01:26am · 0 Comments |
|
|
|
|
|