There Is No Beginning To The Story (Self-Portrait)
Alex and I wrote this short story during Geometry today. Have a looksee and comment (if the comments are working...)
The stone is always so cold when my barefeet hit the floor...but her embrace was always there to warm them. She rolled over quietly, still sleeping. Her arm draped over the pillow with divine grace. I hadn't done anything to deserve her...she was just there...shaping me as a person, watching over me, and making the waking hours tolerable. I rubbed my eyes, and thought silently of her voice, of it's sing song tone, while watching her chest move in and out - amazed by a beauty I could barely understand.
Once again it came to me, through all the terror, to take me back to that same moment simply seven years before. The thoughts flashed blindingly before me...dancing in my eyelids...forming clouds of confusion...and plaing clearly like a home video...questioning me...how had this happened? How could someone be the same after the bleach of time was through? This messenger for love eternal dozed on through the morning, and I would wait all morning just to see the light ill her empty eyes once again...I would wait. Could I wait, I didn't know. I didn't know anymore.
What was I waiting for? I loved her, but I knew this was forbidden. I knew that I had wronged. Rain started tapping on the windows, and I looked up from my position on the floor. With the rain came the urge to clasp her to me...but how could I? How could I even think of tocuhing her again until she came to understand the meaning of the night before...the night...had I wronged her? I had loved her...I swear I had. I had so carefully pulled her close to me, blind without reason, and kissed those perfect lips which had called for me so innocently for years. I held her so close - to feel the beating of her heart, and to assure me of her love...her undying love.
I'm just glad she lived her life...so she wouldn't see mine. So she couldn't see this uncertainty brewing thick in my delusioned soul. The worry of love...true love? Some love...that overwhelms me and brings these cold hard fears that shatter like the rain on the floor. This hopeloss drains me, and brings me closer to this decided end. Panics ran through me as I began to search for a way out, moving like a rat on a sinking ship. If I could just be gone before the angel woke and felt the contamination I had left on her...If I could just be gone. I stumbled blindly to the rain covered balcony...crying for escape. This railing held nothing...and I can prove...for once and all...
That I can't fly like her.
"Love's just an excuse to get hurt...and to hurt. Do you hurt? I do, I do, so hurt me."
The stone is always so cold when my barefeet hit the floor...but her embrace was always there to warm them. She rolled over quietly, still sleeping. Her arm draped over the pillow with divine grace. I hadn't done anything to deserve her...she was just there...shaping me as a person, watching over me, and making the waking hours tolerable. I rubbed my eyes, and thought silently of her voice, of it's sing song tone, while watching her chest move in and out - amazed by a beauty I could barely understand.
Once again it came to me, through all the terror, to take me back to that same moment simply seven years before. The thoughts flashed blindingly before me...dancing in my eyelids...forming clouds of confusion...and plaing clearly like a home video...questioning me...how had this happened? How could someone be the same after the bleach of time was through? This messenger for love eternal dozed on through the morning, and I would wait all morning just to see the light ill her empty eyes once again...I would wait. Could I wait, I didn't know. I didn't know anymore.
What was I waiting for? I loved her, but I knew this was forbidden. I knew that I had wronged. Rain started tapping on the windows, and I looked up from my position on the floor. With the rain came the urge to clasp her to me...but how could I? How could I even think of tocuhing her again until she came to understand the meaning of the night before...the night...had I wronged her? I had loved her...I swear I had. I had so carefully pulled her close to me, blind without reason, and kissed those perfect lips which had called for me so innocently for years. I held her so close - to feel the beating of her heart, and to assure me of her love...her undying love.
I'm just glad she lived her life...so she wouldn't see mine. So she couldn't see this uncertainty brewing thick in my delusioned soul. The worry of love...true love? Some love...that overwhelms me and brings these cold hard fears that shatter like the rain on the floor. This hopeloss drains me, and brings me closer to this decided end. Panics ran through me as I began to search for a way out, moving like a rat on a sinking ship. If I could just be gone before the angel woke and felt the contamination I had left on her...If I could just be gone. I stumbled blindly to the rain covered balcony...crying for escape. This railing held nothing...and I can prove...for once and all...
That I can't fly like her.
"Love's just an excuse to get hurt...and to hurt. Do you hurt? I do, I do, so hurt me."
0 comments:
Post a Comment