11:11pm, I wished for everything to be ok. Is it, then?
Friday, December 18, 2009
the winter of my discontent
She stared with her bony neck out the window at the snow falling like rain. In thick, separate drops. She wanted it to be covered, all of it, everything, so no one could see what she had done, even she would forget. The winter wonderland would cover all their mistakes, and spring would bring a different ending to an old story, a new stirring in the bellies of discontent lovers. The piano would take over the as the instrument of choice, leaving the once-glorified guitar to gently weep. She watches as the wind takes absolutely no direction at all. 'Then why should I trust nature?' Wishing on stray stars and dandelions and believing, believing, believing, that's all she did. It was all optimism, and little else. Time was running. Her fingernails clawed her face so she could direct pain elsewhere. The angel inside her was begging to come out.