She's sitting there. The only place nearby that she can find peace. The water moves under her, and she stares out over it. She pulls the petals of a purple flower off, one by one. In the end, it makes no difference. There's no one here, but her. She blows the petals into the wind, they fall into the creek. Small, silent tears slide down her cheeks. They don't mean much. No one will ever see. She picks up another flower, holds it to her heart, willing all the dreaming to transfer to it, then she lets it go. But the dreaming stays. It refuses to leave. The dreaming holds her in a tight grasp. Refusing to let go. She feels the pain deep inside her chest. It's heavy. So, heavy. And she's so tired, so tired. She wants it all to be over with.Her knees buckle. She collapses onto the cold concrete. The world under her is spinning. Spinning. She's drifting, drifting into a place she will won't easily be able to leave. Her eyes are closing shut. I scream to her. Scream, shout, cry. It doesn't work, she's fading. Doesn't she know it's wrong? That the dreams aren't real? They aren't. I sob as I beg her not to give in, but it's too late. Another is lost to the demon.
Loosely inspired by a daydream that was based off a dream.
Yea, I know it's shit, but it's late, and I am beyond exhausted. You have no idea. And I have to write a poem...about economics. It's not goin to well. Fuck.Seriously, it's pointless. And you know what's ridiculous? My british accent, trust me love, it's bloody awful. Haha. Yea, I can't wait for tomorrow, the last two days have been homework hell. Ugh. So yea. Fuck. Haha. I'm done now. Well with this blog, not all the shit I have to do. Fuck! I need sleeppp! It's not fair *pout*. Humph. Well, cheerio.
Goodbye sweetheart.
I like. =]
ReplyDeleteAnd, just keep trying with the accent. You'll get it eventually.. I hope!