Sunday, March 1, 2015

Essential Information

My bed was filled with books and journals all the words who made up who I was. The sad story of a high school boy played from my laptop.  And my glasses, that were too small for my face, sat on my bedside table next to a prescription to change who I was.  My bed was filled with blankets and pillows the only hugs I would get and the sad story haunted her memory and her glasses still sat next to her bed, but the pills, the pills slowly rolled down her throat forever changing her DNA. 

5 comments:

  1. Such profundity in those words. The emotion you create is enviable...of course the despair is not.

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  2. I love the way you describe the song coming from the laptop and paint the dreary picture of the room with such brief words. - amacafe

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  3. I love the way you describe the song coming from the laptop and paint the dreary picture of the room with such brief words. - amacafe

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  4. So much sorrow packed into this small slice. I love the image of a "bed filled with books and journals all the words who made up who I was." Welcome to our slicing community!

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  5. I can't get enough of your writing. You have such a way with words. Rissable could not have said it better: I am envious of the emotion you bring out, but I am crushed and heart broken for the pain that inspires this writing.

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