6/30/06
As I sit on the kitchen counter, I
eat my cereal. Savoring every crunch
I watch the phone and wait for it to ring
waiting for someone to call, even a perfect
stranger. Even a perfect stranger. Trust someone
to talk to. Someone to share what's going wrong. My
heart beats with pain. The blood runs cold but hot with
anger. I wish to scream at the top of my lungs and release
the agony, But must stay quite as a mouse. I keep to myself.
My hopes that are false and my dreams that will never come true.
I'm lost in my own mind and train of thoughts filled with worries that
can never be told and cries that can never be heard. Smiles are shown
but never true. Every promise is made is another broken wish. Every word
you say is nothing but stalling pain. Sadness is the most feeling felt. It wears
like a sweater on a hot summer day. You just want to rip it off and throw it on
the ground. I must question everything more now than ever. I sit in a white chair
in a white room. I love this room. It reminds me of purity, a free soul. Anything you
dream can come true. If you dream hard enough and wish upon the right star. I walk
around the rest of this seven room house and I am reminded back to reality of cries and
lies, the tears and the fears. Back into a world of having to win. When smiles are rare to see
and I love yous are no longer from the heart. Gazing out the window, I have come to known
that this world is made up of men who want sex and money, women that dance in videos to
make a dime. Young boys hustling and ladies walking the corners. Church crowds have gotten
smaller and cults have grown. I look back in the mirror reflect. Recently I've made bad
decisions that just aren't me. I remise about the past and realize that it's time to let
go. That it's my path and I'm on my own. A struggle it will be, but a blade where
I can not depend. Sorry to my sharp little friend but I hope we never have to
meet again
Copyright © Rachel Robinson | Year Posted 2009
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