She sits in her favorite arm chair, legs curled beneath her. Her eyes reflect the fire, which crackles and pops in front of her. Flames slowly advance towards the dry pieces of wood. Enveloping them, eating away slowly but steadily, until they are nothing but red embers destined to turn into ash and be swept away.
She yearns for silence although it surrounds every aspect of her life. She is faced with mute lips, deaf ears and blind eyes. Yet the voices in her head scream at her. Every minute of every day she hears those voices.
She is not crazy, neither schizophrenic nor a hypo manic. She is just a girl with problems. Problems like every one else. And they are slowing eating her up, breaking her down bit by bit. Until nothing is left.
1 comment:
She yearns for silence although it surrounds every aspect of her life.
I like that line.
Your writing in some of the posts is powerfully beautiful.
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