I can't help but wonder what is on the outside. What is outside my bedroom window that is sealed shut? What's outside my living room window that's covered with curtains?
What is the world like outside? Is it more open? Does it have a different aroma than the candles that are lit up and sitting on my counter? Why do I so desperately wish to see something different but don't put forth any effort to find out?
The outside world frightens me. I'm afraid that I'll die within the crowds of people hiding in the shadows. I'm afraid that the millions of eyes gazing at me are going to devour me and leave me with a broken necklace. I'm afraid that I won't ever get to see the bright, lime green grass swaying with the wind on the ground outside. Am I allowed to be frightened of something that I can change? I can't answer it, but there's an answer out there, somewhere.
The tall palm trees surrounding the area like a snow globe. The leaves move with every direction of the wind and sway slowly. So lightly and so brightly do those little leaves sway. My shoes step on the soft, prickly grass beneath me. The grass waits for me to leave, for I am not worthy to be here. I'm not good enough for the serene green grass that lays right in front of me. I want to be with it, become one with it, but it does not feel the same. I want to be one with the light green sky.
No matter how desperately I want to step into the outside world, I worry that it won't accept me. Will I be left to wander alone in these dark halls of this hollow home? Will I end up talking to the eyes that look at me for 7 hours?
Who am I to dream about the outside world? About the grass? It will never want me back.
YOU ARE READING
Paint Marks
RandomShe walked out of the studio. Only to drop a red colored brush behind her.
