Task 43: Growing Cold

You promise to leave the table alone. Tomorrow you’ll just throw it again. I touch you, searching for a remainder of the fervent affection you once exuded. You swear. Conversation has been absent of late. I talk to the walls instead.

You have stained my wedding dress red, mutilated the memories beyond recognition. I got married on felicity’s death bed, vowed to cherish without God as my witness. If this is his antidote to loneliness, I advise others to turn elsewhere.

Our bands of gold grow cold in the night. We fall asleep to the never-ending thrum of forever’s false tune.

Forever Is Over

I lie on my cold bed. Alone. Waiting. Hoping.
For what? To see him again? Somewhere deep down inside me, i know that it'll never happen. I'll never see his sparkling emerald eyes. I'll never hear his booming laugh when I make one of my lame jokes. I'll never smell his strong cologne. I'll never feel his warm presence in my bed. I never thought how life would be without him. How empty and cold i'd feel. How my heart will never heal and open up to someone else. And all for what? Someone who was stupid enough to drink and drive.

Wake up call

Beams of red light party across my eyelids, disrupting my dream, but they flee as the busy afternoon pries its way into my eyes.

I take a deep breath. I smell the remainder of his presence lingering in the air: toast, latté, and aftershave. The house is hushed except for settling noises; the whine of the fridge, the clock ticking, and the water dripping of the tap.

I roll to his side of the bed, wrapping the covers around me like a caterpillar obscured within its contented cocoon. His pillow smells of him and daz. I bury my face in it.

Unfaithful Glass

I look at you. You return my hostile glance with more than a mutual stare. You wind deep into my mental lesions, sparing your pain for the flesh so far celibate from your evil. Scars don't give you enough satisfaction - they're used, soiled. I have the leading role in the film you play right in front of me. I watch myself cry; collapse to the floor. You witness it. Then you disappear. I have always been the victim. When you flee, I become my own assailant. You remain innocent. Still my silent killer.
Just look at yourself.
I am looking.

Behind Glass Walls

She stares at him through the glass panes set into the door. Her eyes are distant, dreamy, as if her mind is elsewhere.
He sits, his head bent over a pile of books, oblivious of his stalker. His pen moves quickly, a teacherly scribble, leaving behind red lines of criticism.
She drinks in every detail- the way his thick, almost feminine eyelashes throw shadows upon his cheeks, the glint of his sandy hair in the soft light.
Her hand reaches out longingly, as if to touch him, but is barred by cool glass.
Some say she's crazy. Twisted.
They don't understand.

Task 43

Gone Forever

Now I am alone, filled with so much pain. He has gone. Everything happened so quickly, that I still wonder why he left me that day. He created a big gap in my life, and from that day on, my life was never the same. I still remember his laughter, his smile, his soft voice, but they have all gone, drifted away. I trusted him, and I gave him my heart, and in return he gave me betrayal. I wish I could go back to that day and amend it…I wish I could.

Life is unfair. And it always will be.

Daughter to Mother

I’ll keep this short. Not so you don’t spend ages reading but I don’t want to waste time on something you’ll never read. I’m never able to talk to you so why write it down?

I can’t be bothered writing now. You’re never going to read it. You never take an interest in me, unless there’s something to brag. You won’t want to brag about this. I’ll be seen as weak not sticking up for myself. How can I? There’s about ten of them and only one of me.

I want to tell you but I’m weak enough in your eyes.