There was a silence in her soul.
Where not would be the ripples of aggravation, beating her brain like waves crashing down on a shoreline. There was no was no pain slowly dragging her to the hardwood floor of her empty bedroom, where she would only view the blue morning light creep in through the frosty window panes. There was no feeling of stroking her fingers on the textured blanket she held when she wept. There was no piercing in her heart when she read the letters left for her. There was no painful ache in her body when she realized all she really was in this word-
alone.
But there was no sweet scent of citrusy summer oranges to infiltrate her senses. Only absence remained for dark chocolates on valentines day and soft, freshly fallen snow, the kind that had yet to withhold the tracks of other people. There was no flutter in heart upon seeing a young puppy, little and innocent. There was no joy in hearing her favorite song come on the radio. There was only a void where there should be the first warm day in spring where the flowers have begun to sprout up, the seedlings a vibrant green against the rich soil.
There no joy for the girl any day. But imagine the beautiful things we could feel if we only wait?
So now I must ask the question of gold. The one question all must withhold. Is nothingness happier than living, not only the one living now; but the future of possibilities?
YOU ARE READING
Quiver
Poetrya place where I've written my feelings when I felt them. it has become a story of depression and recovery, love and loss, hope and fear, and everything in-between. mostly poetry, sometimes stories. :)
