(no subject)

Feb 20, 2006 16:48

She carries strokes of bad luck, as well as strokes of art that at times, smudge their way to her cheek. She carries her heart too close to her head and she carries a notebook of doodles in the place of education. She carries mud on her sneakers from grueling, gut-wrenching miles up and down the hills, and a will to run wild every now and then. She carries a heart shaped diamond necklace in a tiny green box from Tawian that whispers the words he once spoke to her. She carries piano fingers. She carries the guts to dance on tables and still manages to be the most silent girl in the room. She carries an unsent letter that the mailbox is just dying to swallow; however, closure never brings comfort, and from this, she carries the quality of putting things off. She carries his photographs and they burn a hole in her heart. The flames are in the past but she still catches the familiar scent of smoke from time to time. She carries the weight (wait!) of the future. She carries too many shades of pink nail polish, too many unworn shoes, and too many repetitions of the past. She carries clumsy legs and chews her gum much too loudly. She carries eyes. They are brown and always open, but she cannot look into them yet. She carries that ring she made a few summers back, the one with the purple stone, the one that she made when she was still a kid, the one that she made when he held her so close, the one that she made when he was still breathing. She carries bits of shorelines. Once, she carried him in her heart. Now, she will just carry herself.
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