That moment when she raised her hand to her chest to find out if she'll feel her heartbeat. She seemed to be alive, but who could tell?. Feeling so misplaced she walked by the fence .. heard laughs .. screams .. looked at the big tree & tried not to look at the old swing. With shaking steps she walked away, no one's around .. voices in her head .. good times she thought , good times that aren't coming back. Not feeling the freezing wind that hit her she continued walking. Walking to nowhere.. all she knew was that her feet won't stop. At least not there. Her pure white dress danced with the wind, sparkled with the stars, but yet didn't give her the feeling of safety. Is it her ? her breath used to tell tales, and now it's silent forever. Her pure white dress turned to black. Is it that wrong not to feel a thing ? Is it really impossible to be alive but dead ?
She felt so evanescent, so dead, so .. Empty !
you can feel the emptuness in these few words, I was just about to tell you if you just extended on the feelings of emptyness, on the not feeling, but some how I felt that is so suitable to that feeling, nothing can be more said when you wal; away from that past, from those memories, like you just want it to just stay as they are, as if going back to them always shatter us a little more, and become a memory that we don't want it to be, a sad memory, a tearful one. the feeling of emptyness is so understandable to me I guess, and the reason that I found is because when we write we are so fragile, that we just don't believe that us who were writing, when someone pour their soul out there with that kind of honesty, makes every paper take a little part of us until we end up with nothing, but everything !
ReplyDeletedo I make sense, we don't have to runaway from our papers they carry us as we let them go !
so that emptyness we feel is good, makes you feel so light, so real in some sense.
I wrote so much XP sorry about that
but I loved it <3
keep it up sweetie <3