Carolunicorncowdrawing

Carol

United States

swimmer/pianist/writer/artist/oldest sibling/unicorns/cows/sunny days/bowdoin

http://littlerandomthingss.blogspot.com/ (my writing blog)

Message from Writer

Mostly stuff to make sure I'm making sense. Probably less spelling because I like to mess it up on purpose. I can get vague so feedback and being clear/focused is helpful, but really anything is great- don't hold back!

trapped

May 4, 2014

I'm thinking, TIME does not GO on FOREVER.

I'm capitalizing my words at random, selecting them by the weight of their pretty faces. I hold them up, one by one, crooning to them as their reflections dance slowly in the absence of light.

There's this girl, you see. I imagine she's sitting now, at her window too, holding up the words I LOVE YOU so that they dance on through the night to her papa, who's off to "war" somewhere.

Does he not know that time Does not Go on Forever? I want to tell him, to shake him by the shoulders, to POOF make her- no- him appear. I want to see that little girl smile, and I hope to God (Are You There??) that the father, he's sending her lighthouse signals: iLoVEyOuToO + i'MsoRRy. He is. I am.

TIME's reflection is wavering in the dusty pane- (really should clean my windows)- the crumpled edges of the paper I've cut TIME out of are growing so indistinct that I can feel them cutting through my skin. whO cAres? Look at FOREVER, I tell TIME, FOREVER's melting away, melting away into the night. At least you're still here.

It's so, so silent.

I'm NOTHING.

you'RE noTHINg.

She's Nothing, he's Nothing, they're Nothing, we're Nothing.

Is this how you conjugate verbs?

My fingers are dancing at the edge of the world. They tap dance closer to the light switch. Don't do it, I tell them, don't break the spell. But they never listen. They ask me, maliciously, is this how you conjugate verbs?

One twitch, one final twirl, and the lights fly on.

The window is still fake. It's just a wall, a pretty mirror. I double over, fresh with grief, the edges of my prison scrubs gouging into flesh. Eighteen years, the mirror scorns, and you're still looking for a window??

Print

See History
1

Login or Signup to provide a comment.