Unbroken
I wouldn't know how to describe a painting or a sonata, but I can tell
someone how I feel, though they rarely know what I mean. Words fail me often,
but nobody notices. They aren't listening anyway. One person knows me. When
I talk to him I feel like a knife in a drawer, because my words have power.
The possible damage would be irreparable.
He and I are like a house falling apart. Our sidewalk is askew and our
mailbox is missing. It is painted pink and yellow. We love it, it's unique.
Last night I stomped my feet through the floorboards because I wanted to feel
my toes in the earth. I pushed my hands through the ceiling and kicked down
the walls. I know he wonders why I do things like that. I just wanted to let
some air in. I said, "Look hon, now we can see the stars." He brushed off the
debris and put me to bed. He won't sleep tonight.
His thoughts stay up with the moon trying to exercise the demons in his
mind. Too intelligent, too spiritual for his......
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Approximate Word Count: 751
Approximate Pages: 3 (260 words per double-spaced page) |